


Burdens of the Crown

by 2trippyPeas



Category: Swan Princess (1994)
Genre: Adultry, Cheating, Concubine, Consensual spanking, Derek feeling like he's not good enough, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, First Time Blow Jobs, Jealousy, Loss of Virginity, Non-Consensual Spanking, Oral Sex, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post movie AU, Royalty, Secrets, Slow Burn, Some angst, Tags Contain Spoilers, Virgin Reader
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-16
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:46:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 28,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28101888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/2trippyPeas/pseuds/2trippyPeas
Summary: King Derek has been doing his best to placate busy advocate of the country, Queen Odette who has been increasingly neglecting her duties as a wife. When Rodgers insists on the king taking a Mistress or Concubine, as was normal for Kings, will Derek have to face his vow of everlasting love for a woman who's never there?
Relationships: Derek/Odette, Derek/Reader, Derek/You, Odette/OMC
Comments: 10
Kudos: 45





	1. The King

**"For surely a king is first a man. And so it must follow that a king does as all men do: the best he can. "**

_Cameron Dokey_

**"The King did what all wise husbands do. He did as he was told. "**

_Toby Forward_

**"…every King must have a fool or risk becoming the fool himself.**

_W.H. Mitchel_

_No one else wrote it so I thought I would. I was heavily inspired by "Not without my Princess" by enchanted-mind on fanfiction.net like 5 years ago, but obviously different and I'm just now deciding to do something about it. This is going to be a long one, I think. And a lot more realistic._

It had only been a month since the Marriage was finalized. Rothbart was dead, the kingdoms had come together, and all of the legal teams were at work to try to combine the two governments. The idea that their marriage would result in lower taxes was absurd. Derek would rejoice the day he could learn to take less from his people but at this point, King William’s kingdom had been suffering under his last few years. Odette had come up with the idea of evening out the taxes between the two, having Nordmøre feed off of Hardanger’s extra tax income until they were up on their feet.

Although Derek was hesitant about this, (well actually, all of the Hardanger advisors including Lord Rodgers were hesitant about this) he loved Odette with all his heart and wanted to give her opportunity for growth and success. He backed her in rallying the people's moral and agreement to this change before doing so. Derek always wanted to put his people first and so did Odette. A common goal they shared which led to strong teamwork. So much so that after the first month they still had not consummated their marriage. He didn’t even realize it until then what with all the paperwork and public relations they'd all been to. But the King never said anything about it. His wife was thriving right now, why would he want to bother her with his personal needs when they had so many other more pressing needs?

A few weeks into the second month people began asking questions. The workers began to spread rumors when the laundry maids began telling the servants that there still had not been a bloodied sheet or slimy cloth to leave that room. When the stories of an impotent King or a coldhearted Queen or worse finally reached Lord Rodgers, he finally decided that he needed to intervene. He couldn’t let his boy be degraded behind his back. The old man waltzed out onto the grasslands where the King was spending his moment of spare time shooting arrows of preposterous distance. His cane squished in the muddier parts of the soil.

The strength of the rulers arms could be seen not only by the incredible length and speed in which the arrows flew and they let free of his calloused fingers, but also by the flecks of sweat that flaked off his taut muscles when they twitched under his careful movement. The slow and controlled breathing of the young man made the world around him grow deathly quiet in obedience to his silent command. Like the empty sound you’d hear after the snow had stopped falling. His eyes, covered in a blindfold as he relied on his other now heightened senses. **_Pfwt_**. Another arrow shot directly on target.

His legs as strong as tree trunks held his firm body in place, covered in a loose pair of black day trousers, his long grey boots to the side of him as he let his feet dig into the soil below him to feel the vibrations.. His back muscles rolled like waves over the ocean from above as he reached into the back quiver strapped to him. After pulling the arrow into place he would still himself and were it not for the color of his somewhat sun-kissed oily skin and the occasional breeze that ran through his shaggy hair, you would have thought him an ornamental statue of the landscape. The grey haired man shook his head. The King was far more intimidating and powerful than he would ever let anyone know, _unless_ you’d been there to help raise him like Rodgers.

He never understood why the King never let this side of him show, why he always had to try to be the joy of the festivals instead of the scholar of the temple. The man could hold up an intimate debate with the likes of Plato or Socrates but yet he held back. The Elder only hoped that when the time came how would allow himself to take a stand. And that time was now. The young man’s ear twitched as the sound of gravel crunching then rustling grass. He heard the two steps, then the thump of the heavy bottomed cane. Without removing the blindfold he looked in the direction of the sound and smiled wide.

“Rodgers, you old dog, how are you?” Said man let out an aged chuckle as he watched the younger whip off the cloth and sheathe his weaponry for the day. “I’m weary as the day but I’ve still got enough in me to dig some sense into the thickness of your skull.” He toyed. Only two people on this earth had the right to speak to him so. Rodgers was one and Bromley the other. But even Bromley could be silenced from time to time when he’d gotten far too drunk for his senses. Derek laughed a soft yet booming laugh of playfulness. “For what have I done that has displeased you lately?”

As much as the conversation smelled of cheerful chiding Rodgers knew he had to try and get his point across. “This time it’s what you _didn’t_ do.” Derek rolled his eyes and feigned hurt. “What I do is _not right_ , but now when I _don’t_ do something it is wrong also? Is there no way to please you my dear ancient one?” Rodger’s off white sleeves flapped as he shook his cane at the boy before him. “No, my boy, this is serious. Why have you not lied with your wife yet?” The smile dropped from the brunette's face as he looked away and began dressing. “She is needed with the affairs of state and I do not wish to draw her away from her work.” 

Rodgers shook his head. “The way you communicate, anyone would think that you don’t understand women at all, but the way you act? You can read them like books! My King,” Derek looked to him and frowned. He had mentioned before that although he would accept his role as king he needed some level of normality, so while he and Rodgers or Bromley or his mother or his wife were around, he was no to be called King. The Lord realized his mistake and continued. “ _As_ King, **_Derek_** , you need to show a little more control.”

Derek shrugged and stated “She is doing well, is she not?” Knowing full well that every idea Odette has asked to go through him has been intelligent and beneficial to all involved. “Yes, but now, it may seem like she is running the country. And although we know that she cannot do anything without your agreement, you seem to be too giving of it. You need to make a stand, Lie with your wife tonight to make a claim as King. An unfinished marriage is a bad omen for the lineage.”

Derek rolled his eyes subtly this time, brushing past the wiseman’s superstition. “I will take your advice into consideration.” He replied politely. Rodgers smiled softly, knowing full well that Derek didnt want to push this issue to his wife but he would be obedient to those he cared about and poised when he wanted to be the opposite. He raised Derek too well, although Uberta will always squawk and claim she was the mother who did all the raising, all the work of a father was taken up by him after Derek’s own died when he was four. A perfect gentleman and a strong king, just like the ruler before him. He just never expected a woman like Odette to come into his life and sweep him _so_ far off his feet. Turning his blue cape in the wind he walked away to let the younger man brood on the idea a while.


	2. The Queen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Smut (M rating here, but E rating later in the book), Odette is sus.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You ever realize if Odette had just said 'fuck it' and decided to actually talk through things with Derek to realize that he was just as bad at communication as she was; her dad would still be alive? Just saying.

“ **Derek!** ” He heard the shrill but familiar voice of his mother down the hall in the Dining room. The son sighed an aggravated sigh as his broad shoulders slumped in his cushioned seat. Closing the large leather bound book on the desk before him he looked towards the door at the other end of the library, hearing the echo of her feet patter across the stone and wood walls of the place beyond the colossal doors. The fluttering and muttering of her servant sir Chamberlain behind her as he aided in her search for his firstborn. It wasn’t long before the heavy door creaked and her highness’ grey bouffant peeked through.

“ _Oh there you are,_ my darling!” She threw her hands in the air theatrically as she shuttered towards the King. He smiled weakly and stood to face her. “Hello mother, how can I be of service to you?” He offered her a loving look and she reached up the distance to his face and pinched his cheek, making him nearly grimace at the feeling. “You can start by going to that wife of yours.” Blue eyes looked out towards the stained glass, breaking contact with his sire. “ _Mother_ -”, but she continued speaking as if she had not heard him. “It’s been two months, I should start to see some roundness in her shape but I see none! Where will the _grandchildren_ come from if not from her? Where are the next ones I am to spoil?”

Her words were merry but her voice was full of warning. Derek sighed lightly, “Did Rodgers speak to you of this?” She glanced at him wide eyed before her attention was distracted elsewhere. “ _Lord Rodgers?_ No, what of it? Does he know more than _your own mother?_ ” She picked intently at the loose binding string on a nearby tome, mumbling about how she’ll have to send someone in to fix it. The man laughed quietly at his mothers lack of cohesiveness. “No Mother, he knows no more than you have insinuated. I will discuss this matter with her tonight when she comes to bed.” That answer seemed to satisfy the previously Queen Regent and she smiled before turning abruptly, startling her already rattled servant.

“ **Chamberlain!** Have the new dishes been brought in from the potter? You know, if they don’t match the napkins we’ll have to order all over again . . .” Her voice faded as she strung along the poor little man by an invisible chain. The oversized shoes caused him to trip as he tried to keep up with her. Derek smiled again at his love for his mother but turned to put away his items with a seriousness he kept for himself. He organized his work station before turning to leave, pondering the right words to speak to Odette. The light outside was growing darker outside and the servants had already lit the hallway candles.

He was much better when given time like this. Physically his actions could be beautifully instinctive under pressure, but verbally? He’d trip over his own thoughts as he sorted through them. Rodgers was right, he could be quite a poet given time. His walk towards the master bedroom was slow and guided as he placed together what he would say to her. After rounding the last corner to the short hallway with only one door he looked out the two windows on the corner of the castle. Their view was incredible, it was on the other side of the castle than the town. You could see the sun rise from that angle and the roving hills. Some wooded some cleared from previous farms that grew large enough to move elsewhere.

He took in a breath of strength as he calmed his nerves before turning to enter the bedroom. The door knob moved down and creaked with the large wooden frame. He looked into the dark and cold bedroom. Were it not for the small frame of a woman breathing on the edge of the bed, you would have thought that no one lived there. He had thought it over again and again and again, and decided that it would be better to not use his words. Odette was too clever, she could change the subject and get him philosophying something entirely different and the subject would remain unbroached.

He walked over to the fireplace with careful silence. It was not as though he did not wish to wake her, it was just the way he moved from years of attentive hunting his walk would match the sound around him and here there was none. His calloused finger made quick work of lighting the fire and with a _whoosh_ the room warmed with light and heat. He looked over to his wife as he stepped off the rug in front of the mantel and she remained unmoved. Large fingers nimbly unlatched the metal chain that held the purple cloak to his body and it landed on the cold wood floor in a soft _**thump**_. His gaze on her body never left as he continued to strip himself of his clothes.

His outer shirt, then the night shirt. His shoes, then stockings. As his belt came undone, the trousers fell with its weight and he stood there completely bare. This was not unusual. He had been naked in front of his wife before, when leaving the bathing room connected to their bedroom, when he returned from a tiring hunt sweaty and full of knots in his muscles, when he changed clothing in the morning. He had rarely seen her undressed though, but he assumed that it was simply because a woman was not normally allowed the freedom of nakedness that it was only something she had not yet grown comfortable with. It made no difference to him, they still loved each other. 

As a man, and royalty, this would not be the first time that he’d been with a woman biblically. And although his count was far lower than those who came before him, it was still something that he would not boast of. He was a devoted man. To his family, his country, his friends, and especially to Odette. Once she had become the object of his true affection he lied with no other. He walked towards the bed slowly, not wishing to frighten her. As a woman she would have been with no other and this may be a frightening experience at first.

When he’d reached the end of the bed he softly crawled over her lithe form, kissing the side of her forehead that faced him. She slowly opened her eyes and widened when she noticed him atop her. “Derek, _what are y_ _ou-_ ” she wanted to continue but she noticed her husband very naked above her. He kissed her lips quickly but kindly and smiled at her. “I was _hoping_ ,” he leaned in to kiss her jaw. “To _lay_ ,” his lips on her neck. “With my dear _wife_.” Hi lips landed on the low line of skin before the fabric of her nightgown top. 

He was being patient and sweet but she still seemed on edge. Had it been any other king they would have had her disrobed the night of their marriage and his needs fulfilled without her consent, but Derek had made a mistake the last time he tried to prove his love everlasting and he knew he would spend his whole life trying to make up for that. When she did not move he slowly pulled the blankets from her feather light grip, doing what he could to not startle her. 

He moved the blankets out from in between them and kneeled at her lower legs. Watching her watch him intently he pushed up the ends of her long white slip to the juncture of her hips. It was only then he looked away to see the small blonde mass of hair above his nights desire. Hunger and love poured off him as he smiled sweetly. His work worn hands felt scratchy against the smooth of her pale skin when he pressed her thighs down and apart. She put up no fight but no sounds of enjoyment either and he looked up at her, slightly worried, before he allowed himself to start.

“Do you not wish to lie with your husband?” Part of him was confused. He knew that simply _fucking_ did not have to involve love, especially with a stranger. But he knew he wanted this to please her just as much, if not more than him. He wanted her to know the depths of his care for her, for her to hear the outcry of his poetry and the strength of his arms when he would protect her. He wanted to be her husband. But even here, half naked and spread out before him, after 20 years of knowing each other, she felt as if she wasn’t here.

She shook her head and laid it back on the feather pillows. “No, It is my duty as queen to satisfy my King.” She spoke as if this were more of what she _should_ do, rather than what she **_wanted_ **to do. “Odette,” he called out for her to look to him, she did not. He crawled up her form until his hips locked in between her legs. His body lied atop hers but not sexually. His hand brushed the blond hairs from her face. “ **Odette** , do you not want this? Have I done you wrong in any way?” he asked softly. 

Her violet eyes glanced at him only a second before looking back at the point of the towering fabric above their large four poster bed. “I do, you have been so patient for this and so kind with me in all of my requests, it is only fair that I return your kindness.” The ghost of a polite smile hung on the corner of her mouth. The brunette was not quite convinced but he understood that sometimes women had mysterious ways that he may not understand. He returned himself to the position above her center.

Opening her coverage with his thumbs he allowed himself to taste her. Finally sounds strung out lightly from his beloved's throat. His hands held her legs open wide and firmly he would instruct her to still herself from time to time. His tongue worked circles around and in her and he could feel her muscles beginning to constrict and spasm under his body. Her small palms felt all over the bed as they reached for something to ground her back down to earth. He tried to guide her hand to his hair, one of the few people who were allowed to pull so he nearly craved the feeling, but she quickly removed it to return to the sheets below her.

A soft cry fell from her lips as she released, her body twitching under the work of his mouth. She breathed in and out as if she’d just come out of the water and her body was lined in a thin sheen of sweat. Derek smiled at his work as he placed himself above her. “You did wonderful, my love.” The queen attempted to gather her bearings and said nothing but a breathless ‘thank you’ at the compliment. Pink lips softly crashed on her jaw and the soft stubble of the day’s growth scruffed lightly against the silken skin of her porcelain figure. She had turned her lips away from his but he would not force her to turn back to him.

His hands roamed softly, pinching whenever they passed by her nipples as the fabric from the wide dress moved above his hands travels. Small pants would escape her and soft moans could be heard rumbling from her chest. His taut hips ground against her core, preparing himself and making sure that she was comfortably wet before he began. His lips everywhere, his hands, everywhere, his dick, everywhere. It would seem overwhelming to some, seeing the king above you, making all the right movements. He was studious for sure, but not _only_ of the scholarly arts. He knew _exactly_ what he was doing.

Finally he lined himself, without even heaving to look, just knowing by mapping her body they exact places to go. Slowly he entered her, grunting as he did so at the feeling. He pressed his forehead against her collarbone as he gave her time to adjust. She made little noise, with it being her first time with him he assumed she would have been tighter, louder, or even just more _excited_. But he knew that every person had their own ways of expressing themselves and Odette had always been a poised, almost stoic person at times.

After giving her a minute he began his movements. It was only then that he could beckon the sounds from her with his movement. His dick as he’d been told by Bromley when they swam together in a creek after a hunt in the hot summer woods, was plenty larger than anything anyone else had in the nearest 100 miles. _Except for his own_ , he would tack on, as Bromley always tried to push himself a sliver above the rest when he knew he wasn’t. His strong thrusts lifted her body from the bed each time. 

She eventually had to wrap herself around him to keep herself from falling off the bed that was moving with them. He moved in perfect timing and speed and it didn’t take long before she released again. Then at a time later, _again_. She was almost unconscious with how tired she was from this until finally he let loose with a tempered roar. Releasing he had to steady himself above her, as to not fall on her. Both arms bent at the elbows on either side of her face. Their breathing heavy and hot, mingling like their limbs which she pulled from him with what little strength she had left. She kissed his forehead quickly and politely and smiled at him for the first time that night.

“All better?” He looked at her with weary eyes and before he could respond she turned over and pulled the sheets back over her to sleep. Derek lied there for a moment in the silence just watching her. His eyes roving over her golden hair and still clothed shoulders. The shape of her body asleep on its side as her back was to him, her front towards one of their two incredibly tall windows. Finally, whence his breath had returned, and his mind stopped swirling with lust, he stood to put out the fire. The blue moonlight guided him back to his bed where he covered himself in the furs and the sheets. His beloved being the last thing he saw and he went to sleep facing her.


	3. The Gift

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I know we all make fun of Derek for his haircut but honestly they made a 15th century Prince as masculine as they possibly could so I'm just imaging he looks kind of like season 2 Sam Winchester but he's 25 if that makes sense.

The months went on the same. Once every month he would come to her in intimacy but he never broached the subject beyond then and she never approached him otherwise. In fact, they began to spend less and less time with each other. A few days a week of each month she spent in the castle of Nordmøre. Derek, though he desired to actually discuss things with his wife, even just how his day went, allowed her her freedom. He sent letters to her when she was in her old home and they went unanswered to his hurt, but again, he would turn to helping his people.

After the two lands had aided in healing each other of their money struggles, they began the work of lowering the taxes. That’s why she would leave for nearly a week at a time, to really see where they could cut back. King Derek found this to be a reasonably intelligent request and he allowed it so long as she took someone of his court to keep her safe, advised, and informed of any updates he sent in addition to her own guards. She agreed and chose Bromley and Lord Marion, a Frenchman whose lineage had been between their lands and France for nearly a hundred years. With Bromley going with her he was saddened to be at the loss of two of his closest members but given assurance of peace that Odette would be safe at the hands of his best friend.

One of the weeks she was away, about four months since they had begun their physical contact, Derek had created a trade agreement with a man in a tropical land of heat and spices. Bringing wild creations to the King in praise of his trade for tools and sheepskins. By the end of the week King Eytukoiya of some place in a land called Africa asked to visit his home and Derek heartily consented. Deciding that maybe a Ball would not only add strength to any quivering of the trade alliance, but maybe it would also give him a chance to spend more time with Odette.

He couldn’t have been more wrong. Well, actually the Ball itself went incredibly well. The King and his subjects were admired and enjoyed by all. All who were there ate, drank, and were merry. But his beloved was angered that she was not made aware early enough to order the proper dress gown. Then she was kept away with the maid servants as she was dressed and prepared. When she came out of her room he was speechless. She looked like a dream in pearls and fabric, and she smelled like heaven. 

But other than sitting next to him at Dinner, she was talking with the courtiers, King Eytukoiya’s wives and daughters, etc. It amazed him that such a grey haired man could keep up with 12 wives. But in all honesty, as much as he wanted to be ashamed for him and his lack of devotion to one woman, he could understand. If any of them were like his beloved he could imagine that the African King would feel the same loneliness as he and seek it out in another wife. He had been king for many years and was a wise and joyful man with many children and grandchildren to surround him. Derek only looked at him with a soft longing in his soul.

After the night had had its fun King Eytukoiya called all to him for an announcement. “My King and our country’s warrior, I call to give you a gift.” His arms waves and the green and yellow fabrics flapped quiet and sharp in contrast to his low and heavy voice. Derek tried to tell him he owed him nothing but the tribe leader would not have it. He outstretched his sundried skin and his servants brought in a beautiful woman. Derek’s brows pulled together in confusion but otherwise he let no emotion show.

“I see you are a new king with only one wife, I bring you one of my best ladies for you to have whenever you like.” The king leaned in to whisper but was loud enough for those surrounding to hear “ _She works best when she is above you._ ” Slapping his back heartily the King laughed with gusto as his pale friend gathered his breath again. Odette's mouth hung open slack jaw before frowning at her husband. “You _will_ refuse this ‘ _gift_ ’, if _that’s_ what you call it, won’t you?” She asked aghast.

He pulled his wife aside for a moment. “I must respect our new Allies but have no fear, nothing will come of this.” Before the queen could fight or raise her voice in protest the king turned towards the new friends of the country and smiled. “I thank you for your kindness. She will have a wonderful home here.” Raising his drink in the air the crowd cheered and began to dance. The strange, beautiful woman looked at him in a kind of submissive fear before the servants brought her closer. Her chains that no one noticed at first jangled as she came forward.

When she was in front of Derek he looked her over. Short shaved hair the color of onyx, skin like the dark chocolate sent over by the monks of Spain, eyes of a doe with long lashes like a cow. Her thin arms and small frame made her look weak and cold and he looked to the piles of food in front of him and the plethora of cloaks and fabric around him. After seeing her in only a scarf for a top and a scarf for the bottom he realized she must be freezing. The foreign King had told him that the summers they had here were colder than the winters there. But then again, the country of Norge was colder than most they traded with.

A maid approached and asked what to be done with her. “Have her dressed in warm clothes for working and make sure she is well fed and has a warm bed to stay in with you. Remove her chains and jewelry but allow her to keep what she wants.” The maid looked at him in disbelief. “ _Sire, you wish her to work in the castle?_ ” He nodded, “I wish that he has a good life here. Take care of her as if she were one of your own.” The maid looked at her in almost a kind of disgust before looking at the king.

“Sire, she is meant for **breeding** , not for working.” He looked at her without words and she paled at her understanding. “I am so sorry my king, I do not understand what came over me.” He was silent for a moment more and the maid nearly wept in worry. Kneeling she put both palms together before begging forgiveness. “You will _do well_ to hold your tongue around her. When she is here, she has the option to be more than just something to _fuck_.” Turning to look at his new woman he saw her looking at him in awe. In a broken accented English she questioned him. “ _You will not lie with me?_ ” Shaking his shaggy hair he answered her.

“I am loyal only to Odette," he outstretched his arm to the birdlike woman seated at the table. "But you are to come straight to me if anyone should give you any trouble in this castle.” The new woman fell on her knees out of the grip of the servants and crawled towards the King's feet. She cried out praises of relief in her native language and the others around her stared in shock at her inappropriate behavior. Softly, rough fingers touched her arms as he raised her up, he couldn't imagine what she had been through if this was her reaction to whatever she had imagined. “What is your name, little one?” She blinked the tears from her eyes as they ran down the gold jewelry poking from all parts of her face. “Naaier, but it is a name of shame in my country.” 

“We will call you Praise, it is a name that means ‘great joy’ for that is what you bring.” The woman thanked him in what sounded like a prayer and he had her taken away for all of her things. Turning to see his wife beside him she seemed stern as she looked out at all of the people dancing. She would not look at him as her cold eyes stared on. “What is it, my wife?” He asked, concerned. Her small pink lips let out a hidden sigh, “Why did you _keep_ her?” Derek was confused, “There is nothing wrong with allowing her freedom in the castle. I do not see-” “People _will_ **_talk_** , Derek. The commoner square will be filled with chatter that you accepted a concubine, no matter if you fuck her or _not_.”

Derek was upset by this answer but he did nothing to let her know. She only rolled her eyes at his lack of reaction. She had been seeing more of this. His brooding, thoughtfulness. Where was the careless lovestruck man who would fall at her feet like before? Where was the man who thought of no one else but her? Now she was married to a man who put everything into consideration, calculated thought. She realized none of his love, only his lack of theatrical sacrifice; feeling like she had to fight to get her ideas approved by the court. After another song began, the queen took a quick drink of her wine and stood, telling Derek that she was tired and retreating to her chambers. Her maids followed in suit.

He nodded in allowance, although he was quite certain that she would have left whether he was alright with it or not. He knew King William doted on his only daughter, but he never realized how much until she had come to be his wife. Many another ruler would have put her in his place, but he hoped that by allowing her freedom that she would choose to come back to him. By and by the night grew weary and people began stumbling out of the grey dining hall. They had decided that once the tapestries began to swirl that it was time to bed their women and ready themselves for a new day. Derek saw to it that all had been satisfied before he retreated to his chambers himself. 

The heat from the flame lights and the sweat from dancing and so many clothes combined on his skin to make a need to be in the open air as soon as possible. Upon opening the door he found Odette stretched out, as if she'd been sweating as well, even though she had had time to rest. She seemed out of sorts and breath and he came closer. He saw nothing wrong with her body and she was asleep but uncomfortable. Assuming she’d had a nightmare he called for the maid to draw a bath before softly crawling into the bed and wrapping his arms protectively around his beloved. Moving the sweat soaked hair from her face he kissed her forehead and hoped that wherever she was in her mind, that she would feel his love and be at peace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This woman is not the "you" insert, I just wanted to add another wholesome character to the book and I really think that you'll like her a lot. The "you" insert will be more open to physical interpretation so that lots of people can imagine themselves there. Not meaning to offend anyone with anything written, if I do please let me know.


	4. The Decision

It had been a month since the Kings visit and over half a year since Derek had come to power. Rodgers paced back and forth slowly in front of the great hall entrance. He knew he needed to help his friend who would save everyone but himself. He’d been watching the royal couple and saw the hurt that Derek was hiding. He needed to find something to change that and soon, before Derek withered away and Odette was sole ruler. But what could he do to bring back that boyish vitality? He’d already gone on challenging hunts, read half of the library, made treaties with outside countries, and had even been gifted a - _that’s it!_

Wrinkled fingers snapped with the idea. Derek would never accept a concubine if he was told that was what she was. They needed to provide him with a woman, but slowly. You know what they say; ‘if you throw a frog into boiling water it’ll jump right out, seeing the danger. If you place it in warm water and turn up the heat slowly, it will stay in until it dies.’ Of course instead of death, this will hopefully bring the young King new life.

The doors opened to said man and Bromley humorously bickering over something. Cold blue eyes looked up to the two and called out to them. “Ah, my boy, I have a proposal I would like to bring before you.” Derek laughed and bantered, “speak freely, old man. I shall.” Bromley laughed an almost girlish laugh next to him. Bromley was a strange difference to Derek. His skin did not hold a warm glow of the sun but rather reddened at any chance. Tall by normal means but seemingly short in comparison and by the way he carried himself. Like a short man trying to be tall.

He was a pear shaped man who enjoyed his meals more than his movement with thin ankles and wrists before large hands and feet that were still smaller than Derek's. His hair was cut the same but was flat and thin and held no fullness like his friends. Deep brown eyes with drooping underneath and a large round nose would remind you of a hound dog. And the King took him almost everywhere as if he was one. But Rodgers had a plan to get him a new pet.

“Bromley will be leaving us in a few days to go with the queen to Nordmøre." The king's bright smile faded a little at the thought. “So I request that we find you a companion for the time apart.” Derek's eyes rolled back and he sighed in quiet exasperation. “Rodgers, I have already stated -” “ _Ah ah ah_ , I know, _‘loyal to only Odette’_.” If Derek hadn’t known any better he would have thought his voice was mocking.

“This is not a woman to lie with, unless you decide to later. She is not a man to spar with, like Bromley. If you call **_that_ **sparring.” This time there was most definitely mocking but this time it was towards the pup of a man behind the king. He gave a pouty frown in response but the Elder spoke again before any fight could be put up. “This is someone to simply talk with, freely. To share philosophies and debate with. To free up your mind of thoughts so that you can focus more clearly on your duties when they need you.” Derek was still while he looked past the old man and most people would quiver at the pause, even Rodgers was uncomfortable but held his ground.

Finally he looked him in the eyes with such intensity it would make one's legs unable to move, frozen in place. “Fine, gather your men or women, whomever you decide, and I will look them over. I will give this idea a chance, but there will be no swearing of its assurance from me.” The grey haired man let out a silent breath of relief before Derek passed him by. “Where will _you_ be?” He questioned worriedly “I am going for a ride, until your chosen advisors arrive I must clear my own head.” He quipped.

The wind brushed his hair across his clean shaven cheeks. His eyelids closed as he took in the summer breeze. The only sound that broke the air rustling the tall grass of the hill was a woman screaming from the town below. Shooting into action he sought out the sound when he saw three men throwing rocks at a woman on the street. Quickly he kicked his horse into action and they ran down the hill as if they never touched the ground. Leaving the Royal hunting grounds he traversed the few pathways of the town edge before he found the source. 

The three men, almost boys they were so young, froze what they were doing. Stones in hands they each held their breaths as they gulped down some fearish spit from their speechless mouths. The echo of his steeds hooves clacked eerily on the cobblestone road. His broad shoulders and waving cape added to the intensity of his sight. But although he could seem a fearsome creature, no one had seen him do anything of the expected sort.

After staring at the men slightly angered he quickly looked around to the others on the street as if commanding them to watch the trio while he assessed the woman. His head turned to face such creature and she stood shaking below him. Bringing his horse forward he asked her quietly, “Are you alright madam?” There was no sound from her and removed the hood from her to see it was Praise, the blood shining in contrast to her warm colored skin.

“Praise, why do you not speak to me?” She looked up at him in fear. “You allowed me to walk about the castle, but I was frightened that you would be angry for me leaving to gather food.” His hand reached out and although she flinched she allowed his calloused fingers to brush her nearly bald scalp. She sighed in relief at his kind touch and rested the left side of her face on his leg. He petted her once more before looking out to the crowd watching the little bread holding woman and the mighty king.

“Why were these stones thrown?” He spoke towards the crowd but soft enough that you could tell the conversation was directed at the women below. “Because _I am **dark**_ , master.” “Magically or just your skin?” His words held merriment as if trying to make her feel better but his voice made her shiver. “Just my skin, Master.” Seeing as she was innocent, The King could now proceed. Raising his voice to the crowd, Praise winced against him. “Who cast the first stone?” The street was silent and he asked again. “My people, who cast the first stone?” Finally the baker who had sold Praise her baguettes came forwards. “The smallest one, sire.” At this point some of the castle soldiers had gathered to aid the King and they waited on his instructions concerning the three.

“What shall we do with them, your Highness?” He waited a moment and all who were there were silent. As if, if you were quiet enough you could hear the man think. “Take the two who aided in this act and place them in the stocks. They tried to take her food from her, so theirs shall be taken in return. No food for a week, then in the stocks a week longer. One week for each man who agreed that this kind of treatment was alright.” 

The two grew pale and dropped their stones. When their arms were roped by the soldiers they began to whimper and cry. “And what of the one who started it?” The captain questioned. The dark eyes of the filthy man looked at him pleading but all Derek felt was the feeling of his gift beside him and the dried blood flaking off under her fingers. “He threw stones, let stones be thrown at him.” The soldier gasped in response but turned to command his men.

By sunset the conspirator’s arms and legs were chained to a flat wooden plank below him. He stood and the metal clanked as he shook and prayed. People in the town square stood with arms ready as they held stones of every shape and size, waiting for their leaders’ say so. Looking down from the palace balcony he nodded and the man next to him raised the dark red and gold flag. The soldier turned to the townsfolk and alerted them that the time is now.

Bricks, rocks, even pebbles were rushed at the man and it wasn’t long until his body stopped dodging and it fell lifeless to the piles around him. The people were calmed, and dispersed quietly, mumbling gossip to each other about how their king was _finally_ acting like a king, rather than a servant to the blonde woman from the other kingdom who was acting like a _reagent_. After the bloody stones were piled in a wagon and carried off, the limp body was brought to the outside of town where his family waited to bury him.

Rodgers shook his head at the frightening action of the king but he said nothing because that is what a leader must do to protect his people. His ear twitched as he heard Derek and Odette walk through the doors into the hallway afar off. “I _cannot_ believe you. The actions that you have done were **_disgusting_** _!_ ” The blonde yelled, she walked in front of him and when he grabbed her hand to stop her she tried to pull away, letting out quiet and angered, ‘ _let me go_ ’s and ‘ _Derek, you’re hurting me_ ’s.

He pulled her closer and she still fidgeted but finally looked him in the eyes. “If you will not respect the things I do as _a man_ , at least respect the things I do as **_a King_**.” His voice was colder than she’d ever heard from him and it made her body heat drop in what might have been fear, _not that she would admit to that though_. He let go of her hand roughly and she quickly pulled it to her chest as she felt the crushed limb, wide-eyed.

Her hair turned in a huff as well as the rest of her as she walked towards her chambers. Derek watched her, his mind running wild with trying to decide what was the best next plan of action. He turned and locked eyes with Rodgers, making the old man jolt after thinking he had gone unseen only to find out Derek had been aware of his presence the whole time. His mouth went dry at trying to think of what to say to him, after all of today’s events. But he needed no words, because Derek looked at him with determination and simply commanded, “ ** _Bring out your women_**.”


	5. The Concubine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here's where you show up.

_ Earlier that day: _

"Why do you not give it a _chance_?" Your cousin Gwyneth patronized. Her coil-y red hair twirled between her porcelain fingers as she looked at you over the paper decree that was once hung up on the corner beam of a store. She had had the whole morning to clean herself, pull her hair out of those ribbons that curl overnight, pull on her corset and the beautiful deep blue dress that made her hair look like fire. She looked like some kind of Greek goddess but she had the mind of a pig. Thoughts were far and few between and when they were there they were always worthless or filthy.

Whereas you, you were in a filthy apron and brown dress, your hoop made you look wider than you were but it kept your dress off of the dirty floor while you worked. Your natural hair pulled back in a colorless bandana of fabric. Dirt shaded Your face and arms where the sleeves of your dress were rolled up to your elbows instead of blush or other such makeup like things. Your socks, under trousers, petticoat, and dress top all colorless sheepskin white. Your family were farmers who lived on a hill top near town and it showed in your wardrobe and body. You were thick from bread, butter, and muscle. You were not faint like the maidens that men would save in fairy tales,  **you** had to save yourself.

Gwyneth had come to visit as her parents were sick of her and thought they might have more luck marrying her off if she were closer to the busy town outside the castle. You rolled your eyes at her as you went back to the chores she refused to do. "Are you going to do it?" You asked as you hand swept the ashes off of the mantle floor. Gwyneth rolled her eyes and scoffed as if you had to be ignorant to not know the answer. "I'm going to be the one he picks." She said snobbishly.

"Gwyn, the job is for taking care of the king. If you can't be a servant here, what makes you think that you can be one there where everything has to be 10 times as clean?" You countered. She leaned back in the dining room chair, annoyed at you trying to rationalize her fantasy. "Silly, naive, (Y/n). Do you not realize that 'Take care of' means to be his _little slut?_ " You dropped the dishes a little too clumsily into the basin of water at hearing that and the splash landed on your apron. 

Gwyneth chuckled at how she affected you. Standing she sighed a tiresome sigh and looked at her nails a moment. "Well, I am off to tell them they have no need to look any further. You sighed as she slammed the door theatrically but looked back at the fresh new paper lying on the table. You shook your head but soon dried off your hands on your apron and walked over to the page. Your fingers felt the bumps in the crushed material, you smelled the new ink in blues and reds and golds, and looked to the words beyond the beautiful decorative drawings around the edges. 

_ It had to be for more than just fucking. They did not declare it but put it in writing so they obviously want someone intelligent.  _ You looked up from the paper and saw your mother and father slaving away in your fields. Every year you had to work overtime to make up for how much their older frames could not do any longer. Soon you would have to sell parts of the farm until it was all gone.  _ We  _ **_could_ ** _ use the money.  _ You thought to yourself.  _ Why do you not give it a chance?  _ Gwyneth's taunting voice ring in your ears and you slammed the paper on the table. 

Rolling down your bishop sleeves you buttoned them tight around your wrists and fixed your apron before stomping out the door and to the frightening castle streets away. As you walked you did whatever you could to talk yourself into rationalizing what you're doing. That's when you heard a woman scream and some language couldn't understand being said. Quickly you ran around the corner but before you got there the people had gone silent as a mouse. Your eyes widened at seeing **_THE_** king of Hardanger protecting a young foreign woman. You felt your heart flutter at his kindness but soon felt it drop like a stone into your stomach as you heard what was to be done to the instigator.

You told yourself that if you went into the castle then you wouldn't have to watch that man be stoned to death and that was the only reason you braced those horrifying doors to enter into the fearsome kings castle. The guards at the door pointed you to a side door where all the women were entering. And after coming inside you felt quite like an Esther. Many of the women were rich enough that they did not need hoops under their dress because their homes were clean enough to allow their dresses to trail across the floor. All of the women around you were beautiful with dresses that complimented their bodies and were quaint and polite and looked like they all had rotten intentions. You saw the same woman from before enter into the room and some of the girls snickered or sneered. 

Some knew she was the 'would have been' concubine whom the king rejected, some knew nothing and though her too odd or strange to be respected as a human being. All the same, as he came in in a dark grey dress, stark white apron, and little white hat. Her hair was too short to tie it to but long enough now to pin it into. The king had allowed her the freedom of choosing what she would like to do with her hair. Respecting what her country would seem best. She placed a vase of flowers on the table but accidentally knocked over a woman's glass of wine she had brought with her onto her plum dress.

The woman with raven hair gasped in anger and shock and raise her hand to strike a slap across her face. "You foreign piece of rubbish, do they teach you nothing in your country?!" She screeched at the maid. Quickly you walked over and grabbed the woman's wrist before she could strike a second blow. The woman was angered but your grip was far stronger from working on your farm. "You would think with enough money to afford that dress in the first place, that you could also afford some manners or even just human decency." You threw her arm down and she scoffed. "What would you know,  _ Cow? _ You can't even afford a cloth to clean your face." Your cheeks reddened and you wanted so to slap her but you held your self control. You knew that that was the act of true maturity.

This was not about you. You turned to the darker woman and looked her over. You couldn't tell what was healing from whatever happened on the street and what was from what happened earlier. "Are you alright?" You asked softly. She looked saddened. "That is the second time I have been asked that today. I am making many mistakes." You smiled softly and reached out for her hand. "We all make mistakes. It is what makes us human." She looked at you in wonder and you squeezed her hand before the large doors on the other side of the room were opened and an older man you'd seen often with the Royal family came waltzing in.

Before you knew it you were all brought out into a grand room full of appliques and moulding made of stone and flecked with gold. Rich colored curtains hung from the colossal windows that showed the sun had just set into a light purple sky. Fires were lit to brighten the room and the light flickered off the polished stonework below your dirty feet. You blushed, almost ashamed, that you were bringing the earth into this unearthly place. Praise lined the girls up shoulder to shoulder but space in between. When she saw you staring at your stained slippers she squeezed your hand once and your eyes raised up to hers.

There were maybe fifty or so women here of mostly the king's age, give or take ten years. One or two older women stood in the row, hopefully thinking the same thing as you. A cough shot your eyes away from the competition and towards the grey-haired man in a fine navy blue cloak. As the ladies silenced he began his introduction. “To all the women here, this is a warning that if you are chosen, you will have to live in the palace to be at the kings immediate attainability, and you will be sworn to secrecy. If either of these things are a problem then you are welcome to leave now."

A small few left the line, those that were mothers, or cared for their aging parents, or there such reasons. Down to somewhere in the forties he spoke again. “This service will require cleaning, sewing, carrying wood for the fireplace, and tending to any of the Kings needs.” A larger handful of the women left then. Some whom you knew could not or rightly  _ would  _ not do the work, such as Gwyneth, still stayed. Too enraptured at what the possibility of  _ ‘any  _ of the Kings needs’ might entail. Now down to a more reasonable number of girls, maybe a little over twenty, The Lord ushered you all to line up while the soldiers opened the door for the final judge to enter.

You held your breath. You’d never been in the same room as so many important people. Holding your hands together in front of you you looked down in respect. The soft footsteps grow louder as they come closer and your stomach drops. But it wasn’t until you heard his voice within so close a distance that you felt your bones quiver. “Rodgers, which have you a high opinion of?” He held an air of authority but his words seemed as if he viewed this subordinate as a friend. He asked advice, he wanted to know information before jumping right into a decision. That made him intelligent, patient, open to hearing what others believe. He asked of Lord Rodgers opinion, rather than looks or wealth or skill in areas you know others were well trained in.

You took in what little information you could gather and tried to ignore the low rumble in his voice as he spoke as if only the Lord could hear that ignited a small spark between your thighs. The older man sent out instructions to the room. “Please step forward and state your name for the King. Then why you should be chosen rather than any of these others. The woman in the plum dress came forward, sultry in her movements and purring in her voice. “My name is Eerika, your highness, and I am well suited to attend to any needs you might have.” Boldly she eyed the royal member up and down. 

Unbothered or rather, unimpressed, he waved her hand and she stood aghast. A soldier approached her and walked closer and closer until she left, the servant close behind to make sure she exited the building. She grunted and cursed and the like all the way out. Gwyneth then took a turn and approached him, more humble but still haughty in your eyes. “Hello your majesty, my name is Gwyneth, and my only wish is to serve the Kingdom in any way that I can.” She curtsied slowly so that he would be sure to catch a glimpse of her breasts through the top of her dress.

He looked at her a moment then walked to the next. Not dismissing her, but just keeping her as an option once he’d reviewed the rest. Her pink lips curled into a villainous smile as she assumed the rest couldn’t compare. Two more women he dismissed, two he passed on, and now he was to the older woman who stood beside you. The hair stood on the back of your neck at how close he was. Your spine tingled at the honey sound in his voice as he held up a conversation with the woman about where she grew up, seeming genuinely interested. 

He asked her to stand beside Rodgers and you turned to ask another woman if they’d like to speak to him before you only to find that you were the last in the row. The other woman had all left already. Turning back you saw his intimidating bright blue eyes looking at you as if he were studying you like a globe, or a book of fairytales. You were silent, mostly out of fear, but also because your father had taught you that in the presence of authority you do not speak until spoken to. A lesson that has led you to much safety in times of danger.

He looked at you, as if he were trying to see the youth under your hard work that made you look aged. His eyes roved the smudged ash and soot on your apron. Finally he spoke and you were just so surprised to have the King of all the land addressing you. “What is your name, little one?” He said kindly.  _ Little one? Has he not seen me? Is he blind?  _ Your brows twitched together only a second before answering him. “(Y/n) of (Y/l/n), sir.” You had a hard time keeping your eyes on his as you looked over his face. Freckles barely noticeable from the sun, brown hair softer than brushed fur, a fine nose and straight firm jaw. 

"Can you read?" "Yes, sir." "Will you come when you are called?" "Yes, sir." "Will you try to leave he castle?" You paused a second at the realization that you may never see your parents again. But you answered as you thought you should. "No sir." He was quiet a second before asking you a question that would change your life. "Did you save Praise in order to gain my favor?" He sounded as if he may be mocking or trying you. You looked at him finally in a little confusion and surprise that he would ask such a question. But in light of the recent applicants you realized that he would not have to put it past most.

"No one has the right to treat another human being that way for so little a mistake. We all make them sire." The muscles in his jaw twitched with his calculations with what you had answered. “Why have you come here?” You looked down at his feet as you answered him plainly. “My family needs the money, our farm is dwindling with my parent’s age and my sisters have all married off with no sons yet to tend to fields.” He nodded at the information before walking away.

“This one Rodgers, please send Agnes off with some money for her troubles.” You looked at him agape as he disappeared beyond the doors.  _ What? Me?  _ The Lord did as he was told and dropped a handful of pure gold coins in old Agnes’ hand like it was merely water.

She gazed at them like it was her life in her hands. Ushered out by a servant she sang a joyous sound of thanks before she exited the building. Lord Rodgers commanded the soldier to take you to your new chambers. The young maid you spoke with was speaking directly to the king himself and she smiled brightly at him, he looked at you and grinned before you were led away to your new life within the palace walls.


	6. The Beginning

Warm water splashed over your neck and back as Praise poured perfumed suds over you.  **_You!_ ** It had you still so stunned and surprised that someone was cleaning you instead of the other way around. You talked to the young maiden as if you were long lost friends. She had explained that she was cleaned and put to work just as you will but she reminded you that the men in the castle expected you to fulfill even his sexual needs. The beautiful woman stated that since she came from a life of only that and punishments, and sometimes both, he would not lie with her. Giving her a new life.

You toyed with a rose petal in the water nervously, you had never been with a man. As a woman it was very wrong to do so before you were wed. And you knew that it was wrong to do so with someone else when you were wed. You saw the struggle in the King as he conceded to what he did not want to. You couldn’t imagine why they would want an unfaithful leader, especially after you had heard from the trickle down rumors of his loyalty being a fault rather than a virtue because of its strength. You scrubbed yourself with the clean rags and made Praise laugh with stories of when you worked on the farm to change the subject and pass the time. 

Drying off, you realized that this beautiful little stranger would be the person to keep your head on your shoulders while here. It wasn’t until you entered the exquisite bed chambers and saw the dress on the bed that it truly hit you of just how long you would be here. The dress was beautiful. Simple compared to the royal clothing, but far more costly than all of your clothing at home combined. It was a soft, cool, light blue; your favorite color and apparently Derek’s as well. It was trimmed in thin lace around the bottom and the wrists. A simple, almost aesthetic corset that tied in the front for easy access across the midsection, ending half way up the breasts where the cloth ended. 

You blushed at how much of your collar was going to be exposed but did as you were told while it was applied to you. No hoop to hide your shape, the fabric draped its cold silk right on your legs. No white under trousers either, just you and the dress. Reddening further at the thought of your nethers being so exposed as your hair was brushed clean and pulled back into a low ponytail with a matching ribbon. Soft blue slippers with a leather bottom for shoe-like padding were slipped on to your rough work worn feet. A bowl of strawberries at your table were rubbed on your soft cheeks as blush and across your lips for colorant.

Both you and Praise enjoyed the rest as a late lunch. When you were all ready you were taken to the great library. There you saw the older man cleaning up some books that had been left out. The grey haired man turned from his work and saw you and Praise approaching. “Ah, there you are. My, you look a sight. I was admittedly unsure when Derek had picked you at first but as I am again proved wrong, the king knows more than he ever lets on.” That sounded vaguely more of a compliment rather than an insult but you said nothing as you were unsure of your place in comparison to him. This seemed to greatly please the Lord as he seemed at ease with you, knowing you would make life on his king easier.

“King Derek will only come to you when he desires to, you will never request an audience with him, is that understood?” His words seemed unkind or even patronizing but his voice was calm and relaxed. Cracking with age at some parts. You nodded and he continued. “You will stay in the palace or with the outer walls at all times and never leave unless instructed directly by the king or myself.” Nodding once more you took all the information in. “You will not eat, sleep, or have any definite schedule with the King, but so long as you make yourself accessible at all times then you will have free reign of the castle.”

You looked at him in surprise and let your eyes roam the incredible impressive library, you could have spent the rest of your life here. Your parents taught you to read and write roughly, which was new and considered even dangerous for women of the 16th century, in hopes to marry you above your class and give you a better life than what they had. Part of you laughed ruefully to yourself wondering what they would think of you now. Using your purity, obedience, and literary skills here as a glorified concubine in a sense. But that only excited you more as you soon hungered for any written word. 

Lord Rodgers was quite happy with you. You were obedient, compliant, quiet. You would slip under everyone's radar quite well. He would never dream of the influence a small drop of water could make on a stone like king Derek in the future. Leaving you to the library he stated that Praise would be promoted to caring for you singularily as she was the only one who should know the pure truth of the matter rather than superfluous places in the castle. For the most part you and Praise just enjoyed each other's company as you explored the beauty that was the castle. You ate alone, but allowed Praise her dinner alongside yours. You woke a little after sunrise but always got to sleep easy in your large soft bed.

Your clothes were laid out every morning, looking much like your dress from before. Sometimes in different colors, sometimes with different bows or lace. And you were bathed every night before bed. You read books, wandered the garden, studied the art on the walls and mapped out the buildings in our mind. It had been three days since you were chosen before you even saw the king again and it was only by accident. The castle was so big that it was possible to live there and never see another living soul. You were in the servants kitchen one night, eating a lovely potato soup with your new friend, when the king walked in the room and shut the door. 

He breathed deeply as if he were in distress and did not know you were there. When he opened his eyes to see four eyes looking at him over their spoons, he stilled. You had found out later that he had just had another argument with the queen, she seemed to be stating those more often now. He had come to the nearest room away from the members of any high standing to catch his breath and calm himself so as to stay poised and stoic to the masses. “Praise, how are you, little one?” She smiled brightly and answered him respectfully. “Very well, master.” A soft smile ghosted his serious features and he turned to you, “And (Y/n), how do you like the castle?” You were unsure as to what to call him. You had noticed he was not fond of the title of ‘King’ but you did not know him well enough to have earned a friendly name as others have.

So you concluded to follow Praise’s example, he seemed to really enjoy her so you hoped to disappear into the same limelight. “Very well, Master, I particularly love the library and the gardens.” You cautiously added. The same man who saved a woman who was whored out, also had a man killed by stones. You were unsure of whether you should fear the man or worship. He seemed uncomfortable at you calling him ‘Master’ but said nothing in front of Praise, he changed into a smile and added to your words. “The library is my favorite place as well. Odette seems to only enjoy her chambers. Otherwise she tries to be in town or at her home castle whenever she can be.”

He was trying to make light conversation but it was heavy with unsafe topics. Choosing your words carefully you did what you could to encourage him.  _ That was what he needed, right? And that was your purpose here, correct?  _ “That is a shame, the architecture here is worth boasting over. I have spent my days here simply admiring the walls in my wanderings.” He had a look of realization and sadness at the fact that he had seemingly ignored you for so many days. Choosing you only to leave you to learn the palace alone. Nodding he said his polite goodbyes and quickly left out the other door. 

You looked to Praise in confusion. “Is he always so strange?” You said almost laughing. “The master is nothing to laugh at. He has the weight of the world on his shoulders. He thinks very much but says very little. The last time he spoke freely, he says that it cost the queen her fathers life.” You were taken aback at the news, wondering what he could have possibly said in order for a man of such high position to be brought to death? You finished your soup in silence and was brought back to your room to be bathed again. You were to be cleaned every day in case Derek came to your chambers. You never prepared yourself mentally despite your physical preparation for him to arrive. Which is why it came as such a shock when he walked in through your bathroom doors.

You had the same view behind the castle as the King did but you were on the other side that looked over the ocean and saw less of the sunset and more of the sunrise. It had gone dark outside and the candles on the wall of your room had all been lit. If they hadn’t you would have sworn him to be a ghost or a figment of your imagination. You didn’t even notice him watching your soft body as you poured water and oils over it until Praise stopped pouring water over your back. Looking at her to see if she was alright, you noticed her standing poised facing away from you, and then the man at the door of the bathroom, maybe only 10 feet from your tub.

You wanted to cover your breasts in modesty but didn’t want to look like you were disobeying your duties in case this was as you thought it was. When the room grew too silent he finally spoke. “Praise, I will take over from here. You may rest early tonight.” She mumbled a soft, “yes, master” and placed the bucket on the ground, giving you the quickest look, before turning and leaving out the door. Passing the king without looking him in the eye. When the door to the bedroom attached to the bathroom had closed and locked he then began to move.

You stiffened but neither said nor did anything. Your mind ran wild with questions and thoughts but he seemed unaffected. He picked up the bucket and scooped up some of the water. “Lean forward.” was all he said. You did as you were asked and he poured the water on you to wash. You waited at each command for him to tell you to walk to the bed but he never did. He only washed our body in silence. There was no look of obvious hunger in his eyes that you could see. 

Other than his commands he said nothing other than a sentence or two of small talk that you answered politely. After you were thoroughly washed he had you stand to dry. Again you fought your face to not burn at the immodesty of standing before a man naked, but he only dried you with a towel. The feeling of his hands under the cloth as it ran across every crevice of your body would be burned into your very being and would certainly keep you up at night if he didn’t. Next you were in your bedroom. He commanded you to raise your arms as he placed the white nightgown over you.

You sat on the stool as he brushed through your hair and when he set the brush on the vanity he finally looked you in the eye for the first time. You couldn't understand how Odette had the confidence to fight under his gaze, you quaked in both fear, excitement, and shame under his blue eyes. "You will not call me master." he said in a command that a master would say. "What shall I call you?" You asked quietly, afraid that if you spoke too loud that he would hear the quiver in your voice. He thought a long while before answering. "For Rodgers sake, for now, 'sir' will do fine." "Yes, sir." you answered obediently. Finally the command came for you to lie on the bed and your heart, you were certain, was going to break through the bones of your chest with the strength of its beating. You lied down simply but above the covers. Watching him watch you the whole time.

When you were situated as comfortably as you could he walked around the room and put out all the candles. Placing a few green twigs in the barley lit fire place for a slow nightly burn. After all was set he walked to the door and unlocked it. Your brows scrunched as he opened it and turned to you. “Good night, sleep well.” “You also”, you responded. You were more than confused but you finally remembered to breathe. Not knowing how much peace you brought him by just letting him take care of you. As a king, his career was well suited for his love languages of Quality Time and Acts of Service, but as a married man he had been unable to express himself. You sighed and threw your head back on the feather pillows. From the excitement and confusion over the strange king and the days events, you were worn out enough to head right to sleep.


	7. The Cold

He did not bathe you every night. But if he fought with Odette, if he had to put someone to death again, or anything else that would cause him stress; then he would come to your chambers. He could clean you as if cleaning you cleaned away his sins. The muscle in his jaw would tick while he thought. No words would be exchanged other than commands and responses. It was such a peculiar thing that a woman who would clean up after cattle was now being washed by the hands of the King of all Hardenger. 

Speaking of his hands, although he may have thought he was being subtle, or coy even, you were far too aware of how they would slip past the fabric of the wash rag or towel and brush across your skin. How his knuckles would touch your body starting little sparks of excitement when he covered you in the night gown. How his eyes would linger a little longer at you through the reflection of the mirror. How he paused more and more often to look at you before leaving for the night. Although he made no move to anything other than what he had done before, you could see the thoughts that crossed his mind.

Finally one night you decided to brave the silence by asking him a question. He had added honey and milk to the bath this time instead of flower petals and you knew the change had to mean something, probably the news of the queen leaving for home again. He was quieter since you knew the routine but you still riled up your strength to be the first to speak. Taking in a slow but deep breath to try and subtly calm yourself the brunette seemed to notice. Breaking the silence for you he asked, "Why are you nervous?" His question was abrupt and to the point, as if he wanted to know the answer immediately to solve the problem as quick as he could.

Without looking at him you swirled your white water around as you asked "Why have you not lied with Praise?" He was quiet and the few extra drips that fell from the rag were the only way you knew he paused a moment. He quickly began again with the same gentle movements. "Is she _upset_ that I have not lied with her?" He sounded almost concerned, like her joy was his main focus in that moment. "No, she is very thankful for her life here." He seemed satisfied with your answer, but when it became clear that you were not satisfied with his lack of an answer he spoke again.

"I have not lied with her because I am loyal to my wife Odette, just for the same reason shall not lie with you." Part of you was relieved to hear this but part of you was almost hurt that he did not think enough of you to desire you in such a way. "Does Odette let you bathe her like this?" You meant your question in true and honest curiosity, wanting to know what it must be like to be his wife, to have the full lot of his love, not just a polite attendance. He however, took it as a snark or sarcasm and was angered by it. Quickly standing he threw the rag on the ground almost harshly. "You will not speak her name." Your eyes looked up at him nervously as he pointed a finger down at your body hiding in the tub. "You will know your place." You were scared of the man and only nodded in response. He turned to leave and roughly pushed the things in front of him out of the way. Breaking some on his way out and slamming your bedroom door. 

You wanted to be upset with the way he overreacted, breaking things was less self control than you'd ever seen of him. He must have been really hurt to come to you today, but your body hurt as you realized you weren't breathing. He could have raped you or beat you or both right there. Hell, he was _the king_ , he could have had you killed. After you finished you dressed yourself and combed your hair. You looked at your own eyes, imagining his own just as any other night. But tonight, even with him gone, you saw the anger and hurt in his eyes, instead of the satiated look as before. As your mind grew more and more fearful and came up with all the ideas of what he may decide to do to you, you lied in bed knowing you would not sleep a wink all night.

* * *

You did not see him again until the day after Odette left. Praise had been spending less time with you as well, one of the head maids had become with child and trusted Praise the most to take her place until she could return. And although this was a happy occasion it made you sad as you spent most of your time alone. The leaves had hardly changed colors when you first arrived here and now they had all fallen. You walked about the gardens alone since no one here seemed to enjoy the cold like you. The walls were still green with boxwood shrubs, Holly bushes, and pine trees. The colorful garden would hide it in the summer but when it dies off they were still left with a green garden. You commended the gardener in your mind as you shivered.

The snow soon began to fall around you in beautiful little flakes that stayed visible for just a second on your thin sleeve. You smiled brightly as one fell on your nose. It was said that snow flakes were kisses from Jack frost the winter guardian. "Well at least _you_ will kiss me." You joked up at the heavy white clouds above. It looked like a sheep's wool blanket coated the entire horizon and you simply spun in the little magic that was winter. Before long you got very cold, but you refused to go inside just yet, the castle was beautiful, and you still enjoyed it, but you needed a break from being cooped up inside all day most days. Your nose, fingers, and toes were numb. Your chest hurt and your under arms and thighs were shaking but you kept trying to build a man in the snow. You got as far as the three snowballs in place before you grew too tired to stay awake. 

You awoke who knows how many hours later in a swarth of blankets and furs. Your vision was hazy but you could tell by the color of the fires' reflection on the walls and the dark of the windows that it was night time. When you had first entered the garden it was hardly afternoon. You tried to sit up but you felt as if your head was being split by an axe. You moaned lightly and held your still cold fingers to your fire-y forehead. "Ah, your alive." The Kings low voice was unmistakable, and although he tried his best to sound annoyed or even _apathetic_ , you only heard the anger and worry and relief drip from his words. You made no words in response as you tried to collect yourself. You peaked through your lashes and saw him past the end of the bed at the fireplace he was drying his very naked body off beside the heat with a small rag. 

As you put two and two together you realized that after who or what ever brought you in from the bitter cold outside, that he must have bathed you again but this time to try and warm your body with the heat of the water from your shock from the cold. You could imagine what dead weight an unconscious woman would be and determined that he must have bathed with you, rather than drag your body around from above. You looked at where the beams of your 4 poster connected to hold the heavy curtain of fabric above you, rather than gawk at the king. which is all the virgin in you wanted to do. To see what made all the other farm girls go wild with lust when they snuck onto the hunting grounds to catch him and his friend swimming on the summers eve. Sadly, fate wouldn't allow you to be with out consequences for tempting her with your "almost death". 

You heard the footsteps coming closer to you as your head ache had cooled a little. When you looked to him again he was far too close and was completely unfazed at his unclothedness. Handing you a cup with what seemed like some kind of tea in it you sat up a little and drank it with your eyes closed. Trying to stop the images of his taut thighs from boring into your brain. and his still dripping abdomen from stitching it to your everyday thoughts. Holding the cup out again he took it from your hands and you felt his fingerprints run across your own digits. They were so warm, and it reminded you of just how cold you really were. You shivered again and you felt the chill deep in your bones as you tried to cover yourself with the fabrics above your nightgown covered form.

He placed the utensil on your bedside table and looked at you a second. Indecipherable thoughts running across his eyes. You could only assume he was frowning at you in his mind, telling you "for shame" and all. But when you finally opened your eyes and looked up at him he seemed . . . _sad?_ Like he had failed you in a way. As if if he'd been more fulfilling to you in a way, even if only in holding more conversations, then you wouldn't have chased yourself to stay in the oncoming cold so long. And then you wouldn't be ill now. You had no way to properly explain to him that this wasn't his fault so you just looked at him, your subconscious making your eyes stare longing up at him. You longed to explain how he was caring and good to you and longed for him to know. A kind of look of longing that he never received from Odette except for when she had asked him to make his vow and kill the great animal. A look that would end his ability to go without you ever again.

"Take off your nightgown." He said calmly. _"What?"_ you said in near whisper without thinking. Probably sounding more scared than you meant. "Take off your nightgown." He repeated, as if it was nothing. When Lord Rodgers had explained that the King does not say all that he thinks, you did not understand at the time that he would often do or say things without explaining himself and they would seem abrupt. Only now were you learning to sail with his changing waves. Understanding, you slowly pulled your white oversized gown over your head and he took it and laid it out on the chair beside your large window. Turning around he half circled your bed and came to the open side. You tensed as you pulled the furs over your chest. He lifted the fabric to crawl underneath and your brain stuttered, unable to get a single thought across properly. The man crawled closer to your body and you closed your eyes and laid against the pillow trying your best to look calm or brave. 

It must have been obvious as he spoke to you saying, " _I am not going to **fuck** you_." You shot your eyelids open at the harsh curse, but even more so at the sound of hurt that came from him. You looked in his bright blue eyes and nearly melted at _truly_ seeing him up close. His shaggy brown hair was soft and clean and thick on his head but on the rest of him it was more of a dirty blond color and made him look less hairy. He had sun freckles across his warm lightly tanned skin. His cool blue eyes looked like you could drown in them, whether in a good or bad way you didn't know or seem to care, you would willingly throw yourself at them. His beautiful filled muscles twitched and moved under his skin that looked tantalizingly warm to your quaking body.

"You have what the doctors call _hypothermia_ and your body needs warmed. The furs and fire were not doing enough so I am going to use my body heat until you are well." You made a face of realization, making a silent ' _oh_ '. Leaning into his body you felt the heat of his skin under your fingers and arms and the cheek of your face. You kept your legs tight together but leaned into his body as it felt like it was healing you piece by piece as it radiated a warmth that the fires and the furs could not do. You let out a content hum on accident and you heard his heartbeat pick up under the ear pressed to his chest. His arms tentatively came around you and held your body close like a weighted blanket and thus time you sighed in comfort. You felt him relax a little under you and you dared to speak one last time.

"I would not be upset if you lied with me, I am just scared. I have never been with a man and I do not know what to do." All you heard was the crackling of the fire as he mulled this information over. "You will not have to worry. I only lie with my wife." The woman he was married to had _never_ been this intimate with him. Had never let him _hold her_ like this in their bed, or bared her soul to him as you did, and it left him in such confusion. _Was that not what a married couple was to be like?_ You nodded against him as he petted your hair and it was at this time, you would come to find far after you'd fallen to a deep sleep, that he stopped calling her Odette.


	8. The Sting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There is going to be a part two of this it was just getting too long for one chapter. Also, sort-of name drop. Please read the Chapter notes here!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, sorry. Took time during the break to do all sorts of stuff and ended up writing this, not finishing it and starting 3 other stories (unpublished yet - waiting to finish this "book" 1st). Sorry to leave it on a cliffhanger, was watching the Mandalorian and got distracted because I was cussing out the ending.  
> Also, not beta-ed and too tired to check it. And I really hope this chapter doesn't seem mysoginistic or like toxic masculinity 'cause I'm binging SVU Law & Order and that's what this feels like so that's why there's like /so/ much to try and make this not seem like that. Mentions of Chastisement that could be triggers for people who were abused. I hope I've written Derek's character clear enough for everyone to know that it wasn't abuse. Historically he's far and above any normal King and I tried to make Odette's character seem fitting for this scene. But if you or someone you know has had this happen against their consent or any kind of domestic violence weather you or they are male or female please tell someone.
> 
> What happens here is not rape but if anyone believes that I should change the warning to "Non-con." Please let me know.

The Queen was gone for 4 days. The first Derek didn't plan on coming to you but after holding your warm naked body in his arms in protection and after feeling his being held back equally, he couldn't stop himself. The next day you were prepped and brought to dinner. It was strange at first but you discussed little bits of each other's history to break the distance. You sat a few seats down from where his blonde lady would sit, not being allowed to sit in the queens place. He sat in his usual magnificent chair at the head of the table. You'd never had lobster before but after he taught you to eat it properly it may have just become your new favorite dish. 

You, in turn, taught him how to properly defend himself without a sword. From a distance of course, you couldn't get close to the king while using defensive mechanisms. How to use a headlock with your arms, downing them with a backwards kick to the knee, using the palm of your hand to dislodge a nose, etc. He had chuckled and asked if how you had gained such knowledge. His chuckle sparked a warmth that ran down your spine like honey, and it was then that you were determined to hear the burdened king truly laugh. You had explained that although your father had been given 3 daughters from his wife, he had to raise sons to work his fields. 

You shared stories of your family and you never noticed how enraptured the king was with all of your words until you finally took another bite of your food and it was cold. He had never had any siblings and only his mother who was more of a friend than a leader. His eyes locked on you and his body had not moved other than the necessary blinks as he listened to all of your tales of birthdays and holiday traditions. He felt such a comfort in you speaking so freely and although he refused to believe it, his heart fluttered at your wide smiles and stopped all together at your teary laughs. 

You had dinner again the next night as he listened once more to when you told a story that was so humorous to you that you could not get all the words out with your laughter. You sat only one seat away from him tonight and he watched when your eyes grew somber at the loss of a beloved pet or the times that money was thin. He had rarely had such conviction of his memories that didn't involve the woman he chose to marry. A few with his mother, Rodgers, and of course his best friend Bromley. But he realized the passion came from you. These events were mostly everyday things but your view of them would make anyone think that they were life defining.

The fourth day you were unable to meet for dinner as the king had to be present as an advisor to a neighboring King who had to settle a civil war. He came to meet you afterwards in the grand library, emotionally drained as it was difficult to send people out to fight their brothers, cousins, sons and fathers. You were sitting sidesaddle on the warm red and gold rug in front of the large hearth. A book in both hands as you leaned against one of the two chairs, enraptured in one of your newest finds. You didn't acknowledge him as he sat in the opposing chair and even jumped when he said that the chairs were for sitting in. 

You saw the dark bags under his eyes as if the thought of this event would plague him and had already for nights before. You thought of him, cold and alone in his large bed under soft silken sheets. In need of someone to hold him. Then your mind pushed past the areas of what you wanted, thinking that he's probably naked under the furs, the heavy breathing of his chest and the warmth of his skin. You shook your head and asked him about himself. He began to share a select few stories, careful of what he said and how he said them. Most of them including Odette but not her name, as if the woman in the stories was not the one he was with now; but by calling her names of affection he could manifest the love he missed.

Your leader sighed and even mentioned the struggles that he was having with her now. Only stating that she is harder to love than he expected but that he would wait for the love and respect to come. But it didn't make being a king of an entire country any easier, with their rumors of his softness and thinking that he would be easy to overthrow. Who knows what plots could be being conceived right now against him despite doing all he could all the time for his people until it ran him ragged. He was obviously weary and hurt and you were unsure if you were allowed to initiate physical contact, even if out of comfort. So you decided to make him feel well and voice your opinion at the same time, praying that you would not be harmed for doing so after the past few days. 

"If someone who held authority over me acted in such a way, I would do what I could to avoid them. That way I could still show them the respect due them due to their position, but still be as free as I could from their behavior." He dropped his hands from rubbing his face, scraping against the night's stubble. "And what would you do if they were below you, in terms of authority?" Your eyes shot open. No one had ever been below you. And was the king asking _you_ for advice? You were not allowed to instruct him on punishment of conspiracy and given the death sentence. Looking up at him with frightened eyes, you gulped and closed your book. "I - I am not allowed to give you instruct-" " _Theoretically then?_ " He was speaking without thinking. You knew that this would not end well if he listened to you but it would end worse if you lied or worse yet if you disobeyed. Your voice grew quiet as you refused to meet his gaze. Looking into the fire your heart beat flicked with each flame as you answered your king. _"I would not stand for it."_

* * *

Odette had come home, howling a fuss at how she needed more time to get through working with all her people. She yelled at the servants for asking questions about some of her missing clothing, saying that it must have just gotten left there by the other servants " _who know to mind their own business_ ". She did not hardly speak anything other than politics and leadership with Derek at dinner and when he tried to ask her about her family life before they married all she did was roll her eyes. Scoffing she spoke, "Honestly Derek, you're _a_ **_king_** _!_ We should be talking about what's going on with our _people_ , not stories. You know enough of my past from growing up together. Well, at least _I_ grew up." She added in a viperous voice. 

As he thought it over, he really _didn't_ know anything about her. They did not discuss such things as children. He ran from her and as a boy and she ran from him in her early womanhood. And now it felt that she was still running. "Well, what of Nordmøre? Why have you been in need of leaving once a month, what ever do you get up to over there?" He spoke in humor. He did not wish to pry, he just wanted her to calm herself and enjoy being around him. He did not care for the real answer unless she desired to tell him or if she needed his help. But it was as if you could see the little blonde hairs on the back of her neck stand up at the question, like you would see with a cornered animal.

Her eyes were wide and her body tensed. Her knuckles white as she gripped the cup. "I'm talking to my people and helping out their personal needs. When I find a common problem I will alert you. Why does it even matter, _Derek?_ Why don't you just eat your dinner and save your ridiculous questions and requests for someone else?" Something in Derek grew red with heat and it made him upset. He reached his hand out to her hand and she only pulled it away. Standing she didn't look at him as she spoke. "I'm going to my room. I'm tired of being disrespected all the time." He stood up at his seat and sadly responded, "Odette, please do not leave. **_Please_ **, tell me what I am doing to upset you so." She looked at him as if she was tired of him and only stalked off, mumbling that she wished he was more like her father.

She stormed out of the dining hall and made her way to their room. After days of being unable to sleep from aiding the neighboring, seeing the death of so many who cried out for their loved ones, kingdom and from hearing the rumors of his power slipping from his own staff, something inside the young man snapped. He walked to the doors and thanked the maid for her work for the first time, before leaving a wide eyed woman to clean the table and supplies. Storming through the halls, his tall boots made heavy echoing sounds across the stone walls. It seemed that the queen heard because by the time he came to the doors he heard her lock them from the inside. 

He jiggled the handles and they would not open. "Odette," her name sounding just as foreign on his tongue the second time tonight after days of un-use. "Open the door," he commanded to his wife as he saw two soldiers appear out of the corner of his eye. They saw the king in distress and followed as quick as they could. He could have asked them to retrieve the keys from the maids. He could go in and let her talk down to him as he tried to talk through to her. A soft _"fuck you"_ was whispered through the door, and something about what you said yesterday had made a mark on him. After looking at the soldiers quickly he turned and burst the door in with a strong flush kick. The lock coming free from the old wood.

She screamed in surprise but soon yelled again at the man she was married to. "Heavens above Derek, why _the hell_ would you cause such a mess?" The soldiers came to the doorway as he approached her but he held his hand up as if to still them. They stood but watched in case they would be needed later. He looked her in the eyes she refused to meet with his. "I ask that you apologize and accept the chastisement that your father refused to give his miracle child." She scoffed and held a hand to her chest as if she had any right to be offended by his request. "What are you going to do? Spank me like a child?" Her words were sarcastic but the idea sparked something in him. She saw the light go off behind his eyes and decided to shut it down immediately. " **_No!_ ** I am _royalty_ , I have never been _spanked_ and I will not be now." She defied.

A _woman_ with a **_mind_ ** of her own was something that Derek respected and even appreciated; as his mother was, as Odette was before they married. A _mate_ with a **_heart_ ** of their own was something Derek could take no more of. He grabbed her wrist and threw her onto the bed, sounds of exclamation leaving her. She fought him to rise but he took a fistful of her hair and held it to the bed. "I ask you again . . . if not to respect me as _a_ **_man_ ** in my own bed, that you would respect me as a king in my kingdom." She grunted, but instead trying to make things right she fought to hurt him more. If he were broken, she could go back to doing whatever she wanted whenever she wanted once more. Completely unaware of the actual burdens of being a crown ruler, and what damage she was really doing to the King’s name.

"The kingdom didn't have a king while you were growing up, and _they still don't have one now._ " That was the last straw. Throwing up the end of her dress and pulling down her white trousers with one hand, he kept her still with the other. "D-Derek, what are you doing?" She stuttered growing fearful. He reached for the leather strap of his bow quiver. "I ask **_again_ ** , what have I done to make you hate me so?" She answered him not for she had no good answer. "I ask you _one last_ **_time_ ** to discuss with me how I could make things better for you?" She saw the soldiers and some servants and maids now crowding the broken door, to see if everyone was alright, but mostly to watch the Royal drama ensuing.

Odette was embarrassed at her rear end that was high in the air and exposed. She had heard the stories of men raping their wives, choking them out on the daily making them baby making shut in's, and for a second she realized that Derek had been good to her here and she was only now being forced to deal with the consequences of her actions. The queen thought about calling out to the staff at the door for help but, when she saw the eyes staring at her, realizing she was losing her grip as a would-be queen regent, to a man of such love and weakness. She ground her jaw. "I don't know why I ever agreed to marry you. I don't. _love_. you." The woman had hoped that that would cause him to break into tears and to run to his room like the little boy she always assumed he was still. But it broke him in a different kind of way, it broke his restraint.

The leather made a strange sound as it squeaked in his tightening hand, in one quick movement he whacked the strap against the soft skin of her bottom. She cried out and tried to reach around but at the angle he held her hair she could not reach him. "If you wish to act like a child," he whipped the strap against her rump again. "Then you will be punished like one, too." Again, "this is for disrespecting me without cause". _Again_ , "this is for disrespecting me in front of my subjects." _Again_ , "this is for refusing to discuss what is causing your behavior." **_Again_ ** , "this is for disrespecting the staff who have been working their hardest to serve us." **_Again_ **. Twenty lashes for twenty actions of hatred she had done. By five she had stopped cursing at him. By ten she began sobbing, by fifteen she began screaming, by twenty all you could hear was the soft broken cry of her tears as she poured them into the pillows. 

He softly rubbed the beat red skin to sooth the oncoming bruise. "I'm sorry." She apologized. It did not sound sincere; "my King" It sounded like a defense in fear. Derek's eyes stung with fresh tears at what he had just done, at her words from earlier, at it all. He hated putting people to death, sending them to war, and chastising Odette. But as a King, they had all exhausted his resources and he could not wait any longer. None of the observer's breathed at what they had just seen. A public display of his authority. It was fair in response to her public displays of defiance from earlier but it did not make watching the scene unveil any easier. When his eyes looked to the group he had seen that even the soldiers had let out a small gasp. His rule over the doubters and gossipers had certainly been re-secured, but at a harrowing cost.

His fingers let go of his tuft of her beautiful golden hair and he covered her bottom with the dress, making her let out a breath of pain at the sensitive skin. He walked away from her on the bed as he beckoned a maid over who felt like half his towering size. She rushed over immediately and quaking could be heard in her voice. "Yes, master?" He softly looked down the two feet of distance in sadness. "Please, make certain that someone is always available to tend to my beloved's wounds." The working lady nodded but confusion was evident in her face. "Do what you can to ease her pain during healing." The crowd dispersed after the King passed through them. 

"Please allow a room to be prepared for her to sleep in during the reconstruction of our doors here. I will sleep separately so that any movements in my sleep will not harm her further." He commanded a male servant as the brunette left down the hallway. His mind didn't make sense to him. Too many thoughts at once. Too much anger and hurt. He walked through the halls with driven purpose evident in his mind as he sought to find some solace and peace from all of the earlier events. He was hardly aware of what was even going on around him as he looked up to see that he found himself in front of your doors.

He opened them up quickly to find you sitting in your chair reading a book about stained glass. You looked up, your comfortable smile changing to a look of worry and confusion as you stood to approach his oncoming form. You met in the middle of the room and he looked angered, hurt, confused. “My king, wha-” His lips came crashing down over yours before you could finish your question. (Y/h/c) eyebrows raised in shock as you made a sound of surprise. His hands came to your body and although you didn’t fight him, you did not seem eager as your brain tried to keep up with him.

One of his large hands in your hair and the other on your waist, you soon found yourself turned around and pressed against the closed door. You heard the lock click but never realized his hand had ever left your body for a second. Tentatively you placed one hand on the side of his neck and you felt his pulse like it would burst from his skin and your hand was the only thing holding it in. Your other hand placed on his cheek and he pulled back to sigh softly. There was a moment's pause, as if what you had done for him hear had either made things better, or a whole lot worse. Without opening his eyes from the moment his lips met yours earlier, he brought those same lips to your jaw. He roughly kissed your pulse points as they increased in speed. You let out a breath of ecstasy as his lips trailed down your neck and onto your collar bone. His breath tickled the thin line of lace around the dress top.

Just when you thought it couldn't feel any better his tongue soon takes the place of his expert lips. Trails being made across your prickling flesh in your excitement. Your hair fell from your ribbon and he pulled back to open his eyes for the first time to you. Looking in them you saw pupils covering most of his icy blue irises, a look in them you’ve never seen in him before. It intimidated you, but when his hands reached up and tore the corset in half off of your body, that was when he scared you. You feared that you had lightly wet yourself but you could smell the reaction of what could only be the human sex. Apparently he had too as he had approached you once more.

His large hands began to wander across your body, and soon the deep green of your dress became intertwined in his fingers as he pulled it up to your hips slowly. You gasped but had succumbed to the heat of his and your heavy breaths. You felt the scratch of his calloused fingers as they held just below your ass. The other hand came up to feel a breast and before you knew it, he had pulled the fabric up and over your body, freeing you from it. You stood there naked in front of him and yet, because of what you knew of him, you didn't feel the need to cover yourself. He backed up a step and stilled as he looked your body over. It did not make you uncomfortable, actually, it gave you a little pride at seeing just how you were able to bring peace to, and please your King. That is, until he looked at your face. 

When his eyes reached yours, the appreciation stilled and he stood in what could only be perceived as a kind of shock. As if someone had poured cold water on him. The voice of him who made the vow of everlasting love had called out to him over the voice of his carnage. Although your body was more than desirable to him, especially while emotions ran high and sense ran low, when he looked up to the face and hair of the woman, he did not see his wife. He did not see the woman he had made a vow to love for all of time. You saw his hand reach out to you tentatively. As if he were scared or fighting it. His body begged for the release he could not get elsewhere but his mind screamed out at him in scolding. 

You saw your King, your protector and friend, in pain, and you couldn't have that. Concubine or not, you realized that you cared for this man now, maybe not love but you couldn't bear to see him in so much pain. You came forward a step or two towards his hand. He did not move, caught in his own internal hell. You reached your own hands up slowly and his eyes finally left his own limb to see yours unbuckling the golden chains that held his royal purple cape. He breathed so quiet that had you not felt the heat radiating from him, that you would have thought he wasn't taking any air in at all. Seeing the hunter side of the king excited you and you knew that in the future you would have to bring it about again.

His cape fell to the floor in a dull thump with the chain making a quick rattle as it settled. You then began pulling his shirt from being tucked into his belted trousers. slowly you creeped the fabric out and never faltered you gaze at him. His arm landed on your forearm nearest to him as he whispered, '"stop". You froze a second but saw the continuing struggle on him. You wanted to make sure that he knew that you were alright with him doing this but as you pulled again he added a "please". Your face made one of concern but you obeyed. "Yes, my king." You answered diligently. He finally looked you in the eyes and you could see those mysterious cogs whirling in his head before he let go of your arm and turned to walk out the door behind you.


	9. The Sting: Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took so long. Tried to chug out a chapter, hope it isn't garbage. I think we're like half way?

After a restless night you awoke to Praise laying out your clothing for the day. She froze at hearing your body move and she looked at you in what seemed like fear. “Praise, what is it?” You spoke groggily, trying to be aware of your surroundings. She still didn’t speak and you grew concerned. “Praise, are you alright? What’s wrong?” She finally looked you in the eyes and you saw there was so much more than fear running behind her eyes but none of it was good. Finally she broke the silence.

“Have you not heard what happened to the queen, my lady? Has the King not done the same to you?” Your brows scrunched together as you showed your ignorance of it all. Praise told you of the king's actions and your face grew deathly pale. Not because of the exactness of what he had done, that would have at least brought the redness back to your face, but in fear that he had taken his concubine's advice. You grew sick in your stomach and denied the breakfast Praise had brought you.

After dressing you went to the observatory atop the library. Its ceiling was a large multi pane glass window and where it connected to the castle had a small walkway around it’s frame so you could see over the stone ceiling. There was not much room up there; it was the only place you knew to hide from everyone. You only prayed that the king would not call for you. 

Hours passed and you had been safe but soon you saw maids scrambling across the floor of the library, searching around each bend. “Where is that little slut? The Master is looking for her.” “Where could she have gotten to? If she left he’ll have her killed, I’m sure of it. He had another man put to death about last week, correct?” “Yes, for the rape of some whorehouse worker.” The lady scoffed to her partner, “If you could even call it rape, dressed like that.”

Knowing your leader had asked for you, you knew that you would have to return, but you certainly didn’t want to with them. You quietly slinked down the ladder to the second story ledge. Your movements were fast and quiet as a rabbits’ as you scurried across the halls in search of your guardian. As you rounded a hall your arm was gripped and you were quickly pulled into a nearby room, a sound of exclamation being covered by a large calloused hand. 

Opening your eyes and attempting to calm your breathing, you gazed up at the face of the master. His blue eyes looking at you. Amusement hiding the weary look he often carried. He put a finger to his lips to warn you of your sound level. You nodded and let no noise leave your body other than the sound of your breathing. And the scratch of fabric as your chests rubbed against each other. This drew his attention momentarily before he looked back up to your eyes. He seemed like he wanted to say something but he would not let it leave his mouth.

You knew that you were not to speak unless spoken to but something in you couldn’t help it. “I heard about . . . the queen.” Your voice so quiet, it was barely even considered a whisper. Your pause showed you remembered your command not to speak her name but you were even scared to mention her at all. Derek’s smile dropped as he stepped away from your body. No words came from his mouth as he thought through how to respond to your actions. 

You knew the smart thing would be to kneel on the ground and beg his forgiveness, but you knew the right thing to do would be to be still, and let him think. His decisions were always less rash when he was given time and peace. He pressed his lips together and turned to pace back and forth. Finally, while he continued to pace he spoke. “I do not wish to speak of it.” You sighed.

You wouldn’t tell a single soul, not even Praise, but you were starting to grow attached to your master and you hated to see him in such distress. “I’m certain she will recover just fine.” You tried to put him at ease but it only served to make matters worse. With him growing more stressed. “Do the rumors say she was injured badly?” He looked at you with worried eyes. It was your turn to hold your tongue, you didn’t want the crude words of the staff to be heard first from your lips.

But he pushed on, stepping closer to you once more. “The words they use are very crude . . . sir.” “What have they said?” His whisper so close you could feel it on your blushing cheeks. “They said ‘serves her right for treating us so’, ‘she got what she deserved’, and ‘after what she’s been doing in Nordmøre, I’m surprised it didn’t happen earlier’; sir.” “What has she been doing in Nordmøre?” He didn’t give you any relief. You stared into his beautiful blue eyes, “I’m sorry, sir, I do not know.” He looked away, angered by the rumors, but not wanting you to think that you were at fault. 

He wanted no one to wish Odette harm. One of your hands squeezed in between the two of you and softly set against his clean shaven cheek. “Sire, what did you do?” He did not look at you but you could feel the muscles in his jaw tick. “I thought you said that you had heard.” he responded, breathing through his nose. You shook your head as you answered, “I only heard that she was punished, sir.” Derek's eyes shot to yours and you were finally aware of the arms he had on either side of you, caging you into the wall. When did those get there?

“She was only chastised because she was acting like a child” He explained. “I meant her no harm, but,” He paused nervously as he looked for the proper words. “I did not know my own strength, and she angered me so.” You drew his eyes back to yours as you comforted him, “you did what you had to, my King.” He sighed as he placed his forehead against yours. Something about the movement made you feel like you could experience every emotion he was outpouring, like you were connected in some way. Without opening your eyes or moving away, you made a suggestion for him.

“You could try the action on me, sire. That way I could tell you what she refuses to.” His eyes shot open, first at your boldness, but mostly at your request. Stepping back he shook his head profusely. “No, what I had to do is only for punishment. No one should ever be so harmed without reason.” He put distance between the two of you to keep his body from instinctively doing just so at the idea. You were silent for a moment as you let his emotions calm. “I am stronger than I look, sir.”

Giving you one quick look of chaste decision he grabs your hands and nearly drags you with his long strong steps. You nearly tripped over your words once or twice and he quickly threw you over his shoulder. Your blush was profuse as his arm wrapped around your hips as he carried you, rear end high in the air. Before you could get comfortable though, he had plopped you near roughly on your own bed. As you caught your breath and your hands roamed the familiar furs to catch your bearing, the King quickly locked your door. 

He looked at you, disheveled already, legs slightly raised and opened, leaning back out of breath. Your hair tossed around and cheeks flushed, your chest rising and falling as your breath escaped you, so excited for him. Within seconds he became aware of just how restricting his trousers were. “Are you certain that you are willing to undertake this?” he asked again. You nodded and assured him that you would let him know if it was too harsh. He took off his cape slowly as he just watched your body. He then unbuttoned and rolled up his sleeves to his elbows before commanding you to lie on your stomach.

Turning over, you did as you were told. Softly, almost nimbly, his hands guided your body to the proper position. Your knees on the bed as well as your chest, arms, and one side of your face. “Please turn your face to me, I need to see your reaction. The queen looked away and I could not gauge her.” you faced him as he pulled up your dress, stilling to see you wore none of the many layers that ladies of the court wore under their dresses. You noticed his hesitation and with a breathy voice you supplied an answer to his unspoken question.

“I am kept without underclothes to always be at your ready.” If you didn’t know any better you could have sworn that you saw the king of the land actually blush, but you must have been imagining things certainly. Clearing his throat he reached for a leather strap that was not there. Turning back to you he spoke again. “I do not have my quiver strap, I suppose I will have to use my hand, is that alright?” He asked.  _ So polite _ , you thought,  _ here I am asking to be hurt and he asks so many kind questions _ . “You are my King,” You supplied. Though he appreciated the respect, he knew the decision he was making was not one of a King but of a man and he wanted assurance from you.

“Derek,” He spoke. There was a moment of silence as you took in what he had just granted you. You were shaken with surprise. Only a very select few had the right to speak his name. Even the commoners far from him had to guard their speech from any onlooking soldier. It was as if his name was sacred and not to be used by common tongue. “At least in here, my name is Derek.” His voice held some relief and you nodded. “Yes, Derek, your hand will do fine.” You answered, testing out such a forbidden sound on your lips. Hearing you voice his most personal title only sparked the heat in his abdomen as he pulled back his hand.

One lash, you cried out at first in initial surprise, it was certainly more painful than you had expected and it nearly threw you up the bed. “Are you alright?” he paused. “Yes, Derek, I was just surprised. Do you have any way to still my body?” You asked in aid. Once you were back in position, he moved forward to take a fistful of your hair as he had done with Odette. When you were ready he began again. Another sharp sound of skin hitting skin. After 5 something in your pussy clenched tight around the empty air and you finally let out a soft whimper. 

“Are you alright?” He asked again, pausing, he let his hand rub the sensitive skin. You nodded against his hand and let out a pathetic sounding  _ ‘yes’ _ . He did not seem certain of your response but when you leaned back into his large warm hand against your rear he began again. At the 10 mark you had begun making whines that damn near sounded like moans. As he pulled his hand away again to check on you, you begged him to continue before he could ask. Surprised and secretly, equally as eroticized, he began again and by the 15 mark you had begun to beg and plead. 

Hearing excited sounds of need for him made both the King’s heart and pants swell. By the 20 mark you had begun crying, but not so much as to the pain that was certainly making your rear end feel raw as a scraped knee, but more so at the anticipation you had for something you did not know. Your breathing came out in erratic movements as he removed his fist from your hair. “What do you think?” he asked. You could not move your body from its locked position but you gathered your voice as best you could. “The belt would have hurt much more, But with your hands,” You had to pause, the sinful wanton sound in your voice was evident and you knew there was no hiding it from the man.

He stepped once to the side to check on the bruising but in the process he saw a beautiful drip running down your folds and onto the bed between your legs. Without thought he placed a finger against the wetness and you let out a sound of pleasure. His forefinger stroked the now vibrating body part and he turned to look at you, your expression of need so truthful as your hands gripped the fabrics below your body. Moving to press against the bud at the base of the folds he heard you cry out. Interchanging is handy work he leaned over to grip a breast, the nipple hard as a stone and your sounds growing more desperate.

This is more like what Derek expected of a woman who had never lied with another man. He felt the pressure between your dripping folds, the wall in place of a woman untouched denying him entrance and he heard your cries of begging as his lips softly kissed the hot flesh of your ribs most facing him. “Derek,” you panted as you reached for his arm to steady yourself as the world began swirling around you. After a moment he slowed his actions and pulled away. You fell to the side as you looked up at him. “Why did you stop? Did I do something wrong?’ You panted, worried. Standing he shook his head, debating whether or not to taste the fruit of his efforts on his fingers. Wiping them instead on the underside of his cloak he sadly spoke again. “This is not right, as a husband I am only meant to do such things with my wife.” The pain in your heart hurt worse than the one in your aching core or tingling rear end, but you nodded as a hidden tear fell.

“I will respect your decision, my king.” Derek stilled his actions at your change in name but sighed and walked over to pet your hair. You would not look at him as you pressed one side of your face into the blankets. ”I am sorry, little one.” Despite his genuine sound, you couldn’t shake the feeling of being ‘the other woman’ and the pang of jealousy that came with it. He covered you in one of the blankets and unlocked the door. Looking over at your still frame one last time before leaving. He did not bathe you tonight.


	10. The "Other Woman"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crazy short chapter, in comparison to the 4,000 word chapters I had been writing for my Mandalorian fic. BTW I'm so sorry that I wrote AN ENTIRE 33,008 WORD BOOK instead of writing anything else for here. I promise I'm going to do what I can to get the big rest of this chunk done before starting anything else. I loved all of your comments and Kudos and it brought back the dulling passion I had for this! I'm getting back to working on it, love y'all!

It had been days since you had last even seen your Master. Eventually, the yearning in your heart won out and you closed the book you had been trying to read for the past half hour. The _‘Bee-keeping for the new farmer’_ would have to wait, seeing as though you had read and re-read the same page nearly four times now. Setting it on the table beside you quickly, you stood and lifted your light silvery grey dress skirt as you scurried out of the Library. You knew that if he was hurting or anxious, if he did not come to you, that he would often visit the many shelved room. And yet, you’d been in and out of that now empty-feeling tomb since the . . . _experiment_ and had not seen head nor tails of his majesty. 

Down one hall, peaking in a room here, slinking across the walls of another there. You knew you couldn’t ask a soul about his whereabouts. You weren’t supposed to exist except to three people. Your beloved Praise, Lord Rodgers who acknowledged you once every few months to make sure you were in perfect shape for the King, and your Leader; the man whom you’d been growing a little too attached to these past few weeks. Many rooms later you were stopped by the gossip of the ever ranting and bemoaning chambermaids of the queen. Sometimes you wondered if they rubbed off on each other.

“And I just can’t believe it, Brigeitta. He tried to come in and tend to her wounds after that show.” Said the stout, chubby brunette, her sleeves rolled up as she washed the fabric of the bandage, the bloodstains fading but never leaving. “I wouldn’t let him touch me after that if he were my husband. But then again, that queen deserves it. Running around like she does, thinking he won’t notice.” Said the tall blonde, her fingers making fast work of altering her dresses so that they can hold a hoop underneath. As you peaked from beyond the stone entrance you saw the makings of a pillow under the hoop skirt bones. It must have been created to ease the pain when she had to sit.

“Well that’s just it, isn’t it?” She questioned snobbishly. “That woman gets in trouble for acting like he’s not the king of an entire, now _two_ , countries; and yet she has the nerve to pout when she doesn’t get to keep doing it.” Brigeitta sighed in response to her coworker, Meredith's, comment. “Poor man, it’s not like anyone can talk to him about it. Anyone who does is sure to be a ‘shot-messenger’. At least she’s stuck at home for an extra month due to all this. Maybe he’ll actually get a grip on her and the kingdom can steady a little." The plump brunette rolled her dark eyes and shook her head, making her cheeks jiggle slightly. “If you ask me, they’re fighting just like when they were children and it’s going to stay that way. He’s going to let her walk all over him and she’s going to keep getting what she wants, no matter what it costs. Don’t you remember what happened to her father?”

Your ears burned with interest. Derek hardly ever mentioned the dead king and what happened was never shared with the public. “Oh, poor King, he blames himself for that, you know? That’s why he hardly speaks anymore. He used to be such a chatter-bug to that friend of his.” The blonde placed a hand on her chest in pity, although it was not specifically a gesture of cruelty, you felt yourself rile up in the lake of fear and respect these two had for their leader. Meredith nearly cut her off though. “Not only did she have an interested suitor, but one that wasn’t an oddball or an ancient pervert or a drunkard. But a _young_ , **_virile_** , potential suitor; and she tossed it out the window because his compliments weren’t _specific_ enough. Had she stayed home her father could still be alive.” She tsked in chastisement.

Your eyes widened at the information. The late King Williams died because of something so petty and yet _your_ King Derek had to spend restless and _nightmare-filled_ nights because he believed it was **_his_** fault? You could feel your blood burning in anger. As the women switched topics to the latest scandal of the ever flirtatious French viscount and his latest conquest, a lady from a northeaster country who was visiting with a dignitary, you stormed off. Back in search of your blue-eyed guardian. The words however did not stay in the hall. They followed you everywhere you went. They blocked most of the rest of your thoughts.

So much so that you entered the throne room without realizing it, you had entered through the side and were behind a thin crowd of people who had already said their peace. Leaning against a marble beam you looked over only slightly and tried to blend in with the others. Hoping no one would recognize you so clean and in such fine clothes. It was full of people who were doing their weekly visit with the royal couple to discuss needs and ideas with their leaders. One at a time would approach and discuss what they felt was important enough to be brought before their King personally and would leave a gift of any sort. You remembered when your father used to come every once in a while with a chicken, or a basket of vegetables. Sometimes as little as a bouquet of wild-flowers because of how low you had all been on money that time of year. Your father always had good things to say about his father, his mother, and then even for your brown-haired beauty.

Your heart lept in your chest as your stomach tied in knots at seeing him again, seated in his gilded throne and dressed to the tilt the gems making the freckles on his ose stand out and the gold making his skin look just as warm and inviting as it was the night he lied with you when you were ill. His crown regally sitting on his head, the reason his hair waved out like a fan on the bottom. White spotted fur trialing the edges of his deep purple cape, but as little jewelry as possible. You had remembered him speaking absentmindedly one night as you were bathed of how much he hated to wear so much when so many of his people had so little, but he would always concede to both his mothers and his wife wishes of powerful presentation. You could see that he was uncomfortable in the way he was dressed by the way his body looked but the warm gaze on his face, _that_ was genuine. His love for being with his people was something he could never fake. 

Beside him however, the stoic face of the beautiful siren-like queen that only smiled at the greetings and farewells, looked like she was barely keeping it together. Had you not experienced her fury in the castle, luckily from a safe distance, you would have not even noticed it. But here, you could see the facial tics and cues that all showed the rage she had bubbling underneath. The fire in her near violet eyes and how she did not touch her husband or even place a comforting hand on his throne. As you looked down however, you saw her trembling hands holding onto each other. Your eyes widened at what (well deserved, as many have put it) fear she also held for your tender-hearted master. Your heart yearned to tell her that he did what he had done out of love, that he felt so ill that he couldn’t eat because of it, that he wished there had been any other possible way for him to take it - not only all away - but to even put the punishment on himself so that she would not have to take it.

You see how regal she looks in the deep expensive colors of her many layers of fabric. You see the pearls and the gold strings that matched her skin and hair, the lace of the dress and the ornate style of her spun gold locks that trellised down. She looked and probably _was_ specifically bred for this role as she stood with perfect posture and smooth authoritative movements. As the cool breeze of the winter that was trailing out of the year soon flittered through your one layered silk, you remembered that what you said wouldn’t matter to her, you did not exist. The cold air cooled the sting on your ass that you had no protection for as she did and it made your legs tremble. Or maybe it was just being in the same room as your king once again. Either way, you felt the strings in your heart pull tight as you saw the stiff woman give little response to her husband aside from when it was asked of her; and no matter how much you wanted to run to him. To tell him what a wonderful leader he was being, how he was doing the best he could; you were forced to only look from a distance, and you finally knew for a fact, rather than the light feeling - for the first time since you arrived - that you were the “other woman”.


	11. Chapter 11: the Line to Cross

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ohmygosh sorry to be a tease but I have to separate this into two chapters. The Juicy stuff comes next time.

The queen was in quite a mood during the week that she was supposed to travel. Because of her wounds she was to stay in the castle where she could either stand or lie down at any time. The belt’s effect of such delicate skin left a welt that would bleed for the first few days or if greatly disturbed. Although she couldn't through her usual foot stomping physical fits, she also neither faked her polite demeanor nor hid from the world in her temporary quarters. Thus making the staff work around avoiding her at all costs. Some you had seen had gotten caught, being the nearest possibility of damage in her wake. You had tried to keep to your quarters more often, or the top half of the library.

But even then, there were times where you had to press yourself so far into the wall that you felt one with the paint in hopes that she would walk by fast enough to not notice you. Even without everything that had happened, you wanted to stay out of her world. All of this, however; her being out and around so much more for the King's availability, your hiding, etc.; made it so you hadn’t seen your master in days. As much as you wanted to change that, you knew that the safest option would be to let him be. Or more specifically, let him be . . . with his _wife_.

You weren’t certain what day it was, you’d lost track of them since you’d begun to live in the palace. You were allowed to write letters to your parents every so often and you’d found out that the King had been buying the fruits of their labor at more than the full price while offering two of his own servants to work the farm with them in your stead. _Was there no wrong that he could do?_ You wondered as your heart swelled with the information of the Lordship's kindness. You had always been taught to earn all that you received, even if it was a gift. But right now you felt as though you had done nothing to earn this act of compassion that practically saved your parents from destitution in their old age.

Footsteps drew your eyes from their place on the poorly scribbled letter from your father. You set the letter down and pressed against the shelves as tight as you could, hoping whoever passed by wouldn’t see you, just in case it was the queen, ignoring the stinging of your own rear end. As if the fates were laughing at you for falling into their first trap of caring about your captor, they brought his beloved right to you. At first she stormed past, curses falling from her small delicate rosebud lips as her wide skirt knocked over piles of books. She had come around the bend in her wake, knocked over the pile of books that doubled as the table you rested your letter on. 

As it fluttered in her wind you reached down to grab it. Mistake. The movement caught her eye and she turned to see you leaning over the books. There was no sound at first other than the blood pumping up into your ears with such strength you were certain that you could probably bolt to the door in the moment it took one to blink if it weren’t for the fear that kept your feet welded to the floor below you. She looked at you with a gaze that displayed her regal features in a terrifying way. The look of authority would certainly keep your nightmares fueled for months to come. Her sculpted brows pulled together as she studied your appearance. Too low to be one of her kind but too high to be a servant. “Who are you?” the Queen finally asked. 

Your tongue stuck to the roof of your mouth and you couldn’t seem to get any words out. You couldn’t tell her the truth or she’d have you strung up on the high gallows out by the sea. But if you lied, and she _still_ found out . . . well, you couldn’t imagine the torture she could inflict. Stuttering, foreign to your ears, rung as it came from where your pale beauty had just arrived. “Sh-she’s the Librarian, Odie.” You turned to see who would dare address the golden dragon as anything less than the empress of their soul, and saw a houndish man as he wobbled in. You could not tell if his unsteady walk was from the drink he smelled of or just his natural movements with such thin ankles and floppy feet that seemed easy to make walking a tricky feat.

As you stood, the man who stood on the other side of you reminded you of a poor man's attempt at looking like your master. Parts of him were vaguely the same and parts starkly different. “You _know_ how D-Derek likes to leave his books all around. _S-someone_ has to clean them up again.” The smug look on his face was the most different to your King’s looks as he picked up a book in a careless manner and plopped it back onto a stack 3 feet high. When you turned to gauge the queen's reaction you saw her glowering at the man, as if he made her sick. But it stunned you to see her not lash out, but to carry out a cordial conversation with the stranger.

“Bromley, have you seen him? I’ve looked everywhere. He’s usually here.” The man with muddy eyes crossed his arms as he looked the queen up and down far less subtly than he was aiming for. He sniffed as he wiped the underside of his nose with the back of his fist as if to display boyish confidence. “No, Queen. H-haven’t seen him in hours and . . . don’t think we w-will for a few more.” The end of his sentence was dripping with insinuations and secrets that made you want to shiver but you held impossibly still as they phased you into the scenery. The woman scoffed in disbelief, rolling her eyes as you would have expected but again surprised you with her words. 

“Dear _God_ , Bromley. This is **_his_ ** Castle-” “Yeah and you’ve stayed extra this month.” He spoke over her. Your eyes wanted to fall out of your skull at how he was treating her and how she was taking it. “Listen here, you _mule’s_ **_ass_ ** , my plans had to change so I’ll change _anyone else’s_ I want to in this place until _I_ decide otherwise.” Her gorgeous nail pointed threateningly towards the pear-shaped man. Her lip was curled in a closed mouth sneer and he only looked at her unphased. Almost like it was a game and she wasn’t being any fun, he barely rolled his own eyes, the only subtle thing he’d done since he arrived.

He turned and left the way he came. Violet eyes watched the vacated area a second longer, and just as you thought you had successfully turned into a bookshelf in her eyes, they moved to your own again. “What are you gawking at?” Your own orbs widened and you quickly began picking up books and placing them in their proper spots on the shelves. She made a soft sound of exasperation and you listened to the ruffle of her skirts fade down the other balcony to the stairs. You let out a breath and looked at your hand as it shook holding the book. You couldn’t hardly get it into its slot. You looked into the eyes of the beast and walked away unscathed. It was so close, so terrifyingly close. But something about how you survived such a heart pounding moment, the memory of your king’s kindness, and the thought of his warm body all made you decide that you would do something that was probably very dangerous. You took a steadying breath and put the last of the books away as you turned to go to your quarters, sending a call out for Praise to meet you there.

* * *

The warm water left a cold breeze on your body. You scrubbed alongside your friend as she oiled and softened your hair. “Why the need to be so clean?” She nearly laughed at your determination. You were scared to ask what you were about to ask her, but there was no one else in the castle that you could trust as much as her. “Praise, can I ask you something personal?” SHe poured the vase of water over your hair and combed through it. She smiled behind you at being asked for her permission. It was a feeling she would never get used to here. “Yes.” Breathing in a deep breath you nearly rushed out the question, “How do you get a man to lie with you?”

Her movements stopped and although you couldn’t see it, you could sense the smile turn into a frown on her face. The moment passed and she began again. “Every man I have ever lied with has always taken.” She responded bitterly. You felt sick to your stomach for bringing up such horrible memories for her. “I’m sorry, I shouldn't have.” The room was quiet except for the srips of water as you spun a petal in the milky water around you. After some thought however she did answer you. “I do know, however, that they like to be excited beforehand. They like to be complimented and to have your hands all over their bodies.” You blushed but took down every word to memory.

“Why do you wish to do this to the Master? I do not understand.” Turning your head around you looked at her beautiful small round face. “He has not lied with me but has acted as if he desires to. And he has been so good to me, I wish to repay him. And he has not lied with his wife this month because of her injuries healing.” She nodded in understanding, her eyes still on her work and you turned around again, facing away as she prepared your towels. “That means he has not lied with anyone in almost two months. I do not know how often a man should but I know my cousin, Gwyneth, would often be caught in the throws.”

“My last master had 12 wives and 26 whores like me. He kept very busy.” You took the information with a blow and realized just how much safety and freedom you King had gifted her with. Your heart swells again at his kindness. “Well I am glad he gave us _you_ ,” turning a little your hand landed on hers in an action of compassion and she smiled. She was so happy to have a friend who saw her as a human. Not a body to fuck or a skin to fear or a uniform to belittle. But someone to talk to and to enjoy herself with as much as she could in your complicated place of standing. 

* * *

You don’t know just how Praise got the king to cross the castle to your room, but she did. You had her leave your door empty on purpose so that he would come to close it, only to see you, naked in your bed as you faked a shiver. He paused his movements and when he locked eyes with you, it was like you were pulling him in with an invisible rope. He could never just pass you by and in addition he saw you in need. Making him all the more unconsciously eager to come to your aid. He entered your room and you did your best to act coy at his finding you, your gasp of surprise barely audible over the sound of rain falling on your window pane. Making him feel heroic in arriving just in time.

“Are you alright, little one?” You rubbed your arms theatrically. “I may have allowed myself to get caught in the rain.” You spoke sweetly, in a ‘please don’t be mad at me’ tone of voice. Your words were playful and soft in comparison to his wife’s.They took all blame away from him and placed them on yourself for him to care for and display his love languages towards. He walked a few steps closer and saw through the moonlight that you wore nothing for clothing. “Where is your night dress?” You let out an easy sigh, “Please don’t be upset with me, sir.” He smiled lightly as he asked, “why would I be upset with you? What have you done to get yourself into trouble this time?” His words were almost playful for the first time in years.

“I spilled ink on the dress. I had to have Praise take it away to keep from creating a larger mess, but I forgot to ask her for another and I can’t very well wander the halls naked.” You laughed, but as you saw him still you knew you had successfully planted the idea into his mind. He seemed stiff and the pale moonlight nearly hid the blush that was creeping up his cheeks. “Well, can I help in any way?” He asked tentatively. You smiled up at him, “Oh, that would be so kind of you. I can’t seem to light the fireplace and the wet rain made my bones quite cold.” One hand held the blankets over your breasts while the other showed the tools to light the fire strewn around a place where you might have sat on the rug.

He nodded and began his work. Quick as a flash the fire struck up. “The spring may be here but the winter wind likes to stay around. I would tell you to be cautious of the rain but seeing how much you loved the snow I realize I may be wasting my breath.” He joked as he turned to you. Before an uncomfortable silence could settle you spoke again. “Derek?” You asked, your voice sweet and almost needy. His entire attention was focused on you now. “May I ask a personal question?” Although _what_ you had asked could be enough to get you into a real kind of trouble, the king was rarely asked such and nearly craved it. As well as hearing you ask something so easy of him with such conviction, he would have done anything in a heartbeat.

“Ask away,” he spoke as he slowly approached the foot of your large bed. You were scared to ask him, but then again, today seemed to be a day of surviving terrifying events and you had hoped that your luck would carry on just a few more hours.”You have such a beautiful, strong voice, sir. Why do you not use it more to others than me?” His smile dropped and you were worried you may have asked something too personal too soon. But you knew that he would feel so much lighter if he were free of the burden of his step father’s death. “If you are in anyway uncomfortable, you do not have to answer. I just wish to know why anyone would keep such a wonderful sound to themselves.” You tacked on. His knuckles of one hand lightly rapped against the wodden end of you sleigh bed like a few small knocks as he made a decision.

He thought about his answer again and again. He could just ignore you and stay the strong, powerful leader he was supposed to be. But maybe it was the night, maybe it was the coldness of his wife or the distance he’d been feeling from Bromley. Maybe it was the crescent moon pooling in the window or the sound of heavy rain alongside the cracking of the fire, maybe it was you naked in the bed before him. Whatever the reason he decided to answer you. “I am afraid to speak.” This was not the response you were expecting but you stayed silent so that he could explain as he grew more comfortable in being given time.

“The last time I was asked to speak I had asked what she wanted to hear from me. _‘What else is there?’_ I foolishly asked. The next thing I know, I had lost my queen. Then because I drove her away her father was murdered. I made the mistake of asking what I should say a second time and made a vow of everlasting love that nearly killed her. By killing the Great Animal and breaking the curse that was set upon her I thought I had proven my love, but when I look back, I had caused her so much pain. She certainly has the right to be upset with me for an eternity.”

You gave him a moment should he want to add anything and when he didn’t you did for him. “That doesn’t make it fair for _you_ , though.” He scoffed. “ _What do_ **_I_ ** _know of fair?_ Every event in my life has happened in a way or time when it _shouldn’t_. My Birth was early, my father died when I was a boy, I didn't have a single friend my age until I met Bromley when I was nearly out of childhood, my body started Manhood early, I tried to Marry Odette too early but became King too late for my mothers liking, I was too late at her temporary death, I was given praise and now you. But I was born to royalty rather than to a place where physical life is so much more cruel so I have no right to complain and I-” he glanced at you only a moment but it was enough to silence his growing rambling. He saw your hair as it fell down across your skin, the very tips still wet. He saw the color of the fire reflecting off your cool skin and the rise and fall of the blankets and furs across your chest. 

Lastly he saw your eyes. Your beautiful eyes filled with care and what some hidden part of him wanted to call . . . _love_. You held no anger or malice against him. You wanted nothing from him. You thought nothing less of him when he did not control his speech. You didn’t expect anything of him. You only wanted to show him love. He stared at you again and you shivered truly this time, but not from the leftover cold of spring. Although the fire was facing his back, you could see it sparking in his own icy blue gaze.


	12. Chapter 12: The things no one is allowed to see

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> SMut, you unknowingly start the downward spiral of the story here.

"You are still cold." He noted, his voice had changed. You didn't hear the self doubt and depreciation. It was low and warm and the rumble tumbled across the skin of your chest as your breathing hitched. "May I speak freely, Derek?" You asked cautiously. Although none of his features showed it, you saw curiosity flash across his eyes that were growing darker. No one has ever asked to speak freely to him. He either offered it or they did not receive it. Except for Odette, who always took without asking. He nodded and awaited your response. You let out a soft shaky breath before you pooled the last of your courage to speak your mind before the king of all Hardanger. 

"Because you are my king and my master I have to agree with you, but" he watched you carefully. His breathing was steady and deep. "I agree in a way I think is different." His brows came together now. You had been safe so far so you took another tentative metaphorical step forward. "You do not seem to know what is fair. Because you have been more than fair to your servants." His shaggy haired head tilted to the side as he took in your words. "You have been more than fair with Praise, and your people who are so quick to start rumors about someone so different from them. You have been more than fair to your . . . wife, and more than fair to me for all the trouble I've caused. You've treated us all better than we have earned or deserved."

He looked down a moment, his gaze finally leaving you to look at his hands in the foot of your bed. As he realized what you were saying he tried to take it all in. He'd always had a hard time accepting compliments or kind words and this was chipping away pieces of the wall of defense he'd had to start growing on his heart. He glanced back up and saw you waiting for him. When no movement was made you stood slow as a prowling mountain lion. "I would like to repay my debt," you spoke slowly, in a nearly sultry voice as the fabrics and furs slowly fell from your base body. His muscles tensed and even in the watery moonlight you could see his jaw tick in restraint. 

He stood upright as you tried to approach. "There is no debt," he spoke like the king he was. Deep, commanding, sure. The sound neatly made you shiver again and the cool air made your nipples perk in response. "Please, sir, please let me repay your kindness." You begged sweetly as you kneeled in front of him. He tried not to look at your smooth naked body as you sat there on your knees so close to his legs. He made no movement to oblige you but none to run. He was caught like the last time, where his body begged yes but his mind screamed no. Only this time his heart broke free of the stony crust he had been burying it under and asked to try it, to give it a chance.

His strong jaw was looking away but his eyes glanced down at you. Your pearly smile peaked out at him under your low lidded eyes. Nimble fingers reached up to undo the strap of his thick belt and he grabbed your wrist in his large hand. "Are you sure you want to do this?" He asked, you could almost hear a nervousness in his voice. "Yes, Derek, please let me be good to you." You asked, your voice something he wanted to drown himself into. As you finally freed him of his trousers, the heat of the fire and the prickling of his skin were too much as he removed himself of his upper clothes. They fell to the floor beside him in a dull thud and you saw the reflections of the raindrops as if they were falling on his skin.

You placed your hands on his lower hips and gave him one last look. "I have never done this before but I will do my absolute best. You may have to be patient though." You heard his breath hitch once in anticipation and in your eagerness to give him anything to please him. Even your first learning experience of this kind. He felt a kiss to his dick and the member grew up straight and solid in an instant. You watched as his head fell backwards, exposing the string neck that rumbled with a quiet groan. His large calloused fingers wrapped around your wrists as if to steady himself. For a moment, you realized that you held the entire kingdom in your hands and the idea of being able to change the realm in a moment's notice made your breath leave you. The warm air brushing across his pelvis, making the muscles in his hips tighten under your fingers.

You began again, leaving a kiss near each wrist of his, then on his hips near each of your hands. The action was so soft and loving. It was unlike anything he'd ever experienced and it made his heart shudder weakly. You positioned your hands on his rear end and took a quick second to savor the feeling of the taught skin so firm you bounce a gold coin off of it. Using your tongue you made sure he was completely wet in addition to his precum. The sounds he held back you barely heard leave his heavy chest but some part of you inside begged to hear more, to let him be free and speak all that he wanted to. But you didn't want to make him uncomfortable so you silently tried to work out his indiscernible words of praise and admiration. 

You weren't sure but it felt like he was ready to begin. You wrapped your lips around him and he jolted forward a little unconsciously. " _Sorry_ ," his voice was tight and you pulled away a second. "You have nothing to be sorry for, I'm here to do your will." Before you could even get back to the position you were at before, his hand had gripped your hair once more. Not enough to hurt but enough to control your movements. It reminded you of his action of 'punishment' weeks before and it made the center of your legs begin to drip in excitement. As if the smell of it unlatched his last lock, he moved you on his member. He kept a rhythm and you let your body move loosely in his grip to do as he commanded. 

Finally, finally, you heard him begin to sound his approval and it only made your core react further. Sweat began to build up lightly on his skin as you saw it match the falling rain outside that began to change from a spring drizzly to a deep storm. His breathing shuddered and his body worked into a ferocious heat that warmed the nearby area including yourself. Soon enough his moving you turned into his hips thrusting into you. You did your best to relax yourself and breathe in between thrusts through your nose but your eyes soon watered at the struggle. You moved a hand to the base of his pelvis applying a little pressure to slow him down but your silent pleas went unanswered as his movements roughly continued. 

The hand slipped and brushed against his well hung additions. It caused him to jolt and still for half of a second which was enough to catch a breath and you softly held them in your palm while he moved. The addition of your touch and the constricting throat caused him to finally make three final thrusts. Deep, slow, strong. Until finally with a roar of release he let go. You felt the hot sticky liquid as it poured down your throat. It just kept going and going and you were certain that Odette must pull away early or else she would be surly pregnant with how he fills you. When you finally could take no more you pushed his hips away enough to free your mouth, the access falling on your face in warm spurts. 

His breathing shudders and his legs vibrated with his head still hung back. His eyes closed, now relaxing as his heavy breathing slowly came back to him. He heard you swallow and looked down to see you looking up at him through our beautiful long lashes. His seed strewn across your face and chest in a beautiful mess. Your hair askew in his uncurling fingers. The sight of you nearly glowing under his touch made something in him feel as though it snapped tight.

You had cracked through the shell of his armor with small sweet touches and had found a place to burrough there. The moment was cut short as panting and running footsteps neared your door. The king calmly wrapped his cloak around your sitting body. You were unsure whether you were allowed to clean your face or not so decided against it as he walked towards the ferocious knocking at the door, poised and perfect. A picture of strength both inward and out. He opened the door, barely keeping enough to the side to hide his privates, but enough to see you sitting in what felt like almost shame. 

Being with him was one thing, people knowing that felt like an entirely different thing. And being caught naked and covered in him was a worse thing altogether. But you supposed that was your job. "Derek, my King, your -  _ oh _ ," you recognized the voice of the older man whom your master was fond of. He must have noticed his leaders state and unconsciously peaked over to see you wrapped in his royal purple fabrics. "I apologize, my Lord, I did not know you were . . .  _ occupied _ ." He spoke, obviously somewhat uncomfortable with what he had just interrupted.

"That's alright, Rodgers; what do you need?" He consoled, ever apt to his people's needs over his own. The elder man cleared his throat and lowered his voice, you were just barely able to hear it over the thunder. "Your wife is looking to speak to you. She is in a bit of a mood at not being able to find you anywhere." Derek nodded and although he tried not to, you saw a hidden sigh fall on the back of his shoulders." Tell her I will meet her in the library within the hour. The ancient man nodded and gave one more cautious glance to you before leaving down the hallway.

The brunette finally turned to look at you. His eyes swirled with thought he still refused to share. But for now you felt as though you had won the battle. You smiled softly at him, “Your kingdom needed you.” He sighed and walked over to you. Nimble fingers made a move to hand him his cloak but he pressed it back against you. “Keep it,” He spoke back just as softly. “I can always get another.” He was on one knee before you, still naked as a jaybird, as he used one finger to tilt the underside of your chin towards his face. You sighed with a feeling that settled happily in your heart as you gazed at his beautiful self.

You were certain that you would never be truly happy until you had counted each and every nearly hidden sunkissed freckle across his nose and cheekbones. Until you’d memorized every silver fleck in his cool blue eyes that were the only betrayers of his silent stoic self. Until you ran your hands through his hair softly while he slept on your chest that rose and fell with your hums of music. But for now you settled with showing him that he could have that if he only asked. The rough skin of his fingers held your jaw as soft as if he were holding a dove. A hidden smile in the corner of his lips as he leaned in to give you a soft kiss.

There was no lust or passion in it, but it was your first kiss nonetheless and you drank it down like it was water to a dehydrated woman. His lips were softer than they looked and warmer than any part of his body you’d ever felt. The kiss was quick and though it felt like hours it left all too soon. He pulled away and used a damp rag to wipe himself fully clean before dressing himself and preparing to leave. Before he exited the room, he looked to you one last time, again with an indiscernible look but something about the way he held himself now showed that you had given him peace, even if only for a short while. He gave a small sweet smile, not trusting his words just yet. You only smiled tiredly back at him and nodded once in his leaving. As soon as the door closed all the way you used the same damp rag to clean yourself as well. You plopped the rag somewhere in the bathroom and fell back on your feather bed holding his cloak that smelled of him as you fell into a heavy exhausted sleep.


End file.
